


Only the Gods are Merciful

by hlmedinfl



Category: Dreams of Fire and Gods - James Erich
Genre: Adventure/Fantasy - Freeform, Friends to Lovers, Infreqent Explicit Language, M/M, Minor Character Death, Palace Intrigue, Sexual Content, Suicidal Thoughts, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-23 18:56:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13794087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hlmedinfl/pseuds/hlmedinfl
Summary: When Sael fails his initiation ceremony-and loses his magic-he is forced to leave home and study in the capital. But Sael's family has been on uneasy terms with the Emperor lately, and one wrong move could cost him his life. To make matters worse, a new valet has dropped into his life and is causing all sorts of trouble. Will he regain his magical powers, or does the Emperor have other plans for him?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There is a glossary of the vocabulary used at the bottom of this chapter. I've tried to be accurate, but there may be mistakes in my understanding, so I ask for your patience.
> 
> This fanfic starts before the actual story and has a few differences. First, Sael has not gone to gü-Khemed. Second, Sael's brother, Seffni, has not died. 
> 
> Finally, I really adore these books and I really needed to see the characters interact once again. I'm aware that this series doesn't have much of a following, but I can't be the only one who needed fanfics of this.

Sael dönz Menaük was discovering it was actually possible to disappear into his bed. All he had to do was hide under the pillows at the headboard and not make a sound when his valet, Jekh, came in. Or his master, Vönan Geilin. Or his brother, the Dekan of Harleh. All three of these men had been in his room to look for him that morning, and subsequently, that afternoon, and yet none had noticed pillows being slightly more over-stuffed than usual.

If Diven had come in, he’d definitely notice something was off about the pillows at the headboard, but thankfully, it hadn’t come to that point. But he knew it would. And soon.

He dreaded having to rip himself from the safe haven of his mattress and his room. He dreaded having to be thrust in front of his father, the Vek of the Eastern Kingdom, and having to explain just what had gone wrong.

But it wasn’t his fault!

Oh no. He had the best tutor. He’d studied fervently in the months leading up to yesterday. He’d even conducted his prayers with more zest than usual.

And yet…

And yet he hadn’t been initiated into the circle of fire mages. Yesterday, he was supposed to have become a vönen and today he was still an apprentice.

He remembered it perfectly. The sun beams shining through the temple and the vönen’s expectant eyes. But when he’d called on the magic, nothing happened. It was if the magic had just failed! But that didn’t happen. Magic didn’t just fail. There had to be something. Sael slammed his fist on the mattress, careful not to mess up the pillows.

“Ah, so that’s where you’ve been hiding,” came a familiar voice. Sael inwardly cursed himself for his emotions getting the best of him.

“We’d almost resorted to asking the ömem to use the Sight to find you. Of course, that wouldn’t have worked if you’d been hiding in here, which is what I suspected. You can come out now, by the way.”

Sael tried to burrow through the pillows so as not to destroy the mirage of a perfectly-made bed, but, just like yesterday, that failed too. The pillows tumbled to the floor, taking out the candle on the nightstand in the process.

“Hello, Master.” Sael sat up on the bed, almost unable to look at Geilin’s face.

“Good afternoon.” The reply was genial, but Sael guessed there was some sarcasm beneath that calm smile.

Geilin rose from his perch on the divan and passed a cup to Sael.

“Here,” he said. His cheeks made his eyes squint and his whole face seemed to puff up around his mischievous grin.

That usually meant trouble. For Sael.

“What is it?” Sael eyed it suspiciously. The cup seemed to contain a clear liquid, but one whiff of it told him it wasn’t water.

“A drink I made.”

“You made this?” He’d never known his master to be much of brewer, but from the fumes this thing was giving off, perhaps chemist was a better title.

“Well, recreated it, from a drink I read about in the archives.”

Now Sael was even more doubtful about drinking it. Surely, Geilin wasn’t trying to kill him. But now that Sael thought about it, he was thinking he would be better off dead anyway.

Without anymore chatter, Sael knocked his head back and drained the cup’s contents. Or at least, he tried to. The drink rebelled against him, making his throat burn and his eyes water. He coughed more of it up than he could hold down.

“Ugh,” Sael wiped his hand with his mouth. His entire face and esophagus felt like it’d been burned by a firebolt.

Geilin chuckled. “I trust you won’t be trying to gulp it down like that again. It’s not ale.”

“I’m aware of that now.”

“In fact, its alcohol content is perhaps ten times that of ale!” Geilin’s face radiated with pride. Sael thought he was going to be sick.

Still, he did take another precautionary sip from the nearly-drained cup. He would need this today, and a lot of it.

His father was coming from Worlen. That really wasn’t any surprise. His father often made trips between Worlen, the capital of the Eastern Kingdom, and Harleh, the city on the edge of that kingdom. And his two sons lived there, after all.

What was surprising, however, was that this time the Vek of Worlen wasn’t coming to engage in another political discussion with Sael’s brother, Seffni. The vek was coming because of Sael himself, and Sael, presently, was no one to make a day’s journey for.

After some time, Geilin leaned in and patted Sael’s shoulder. Perhaps he’d noticed the creeping dread on his face, or the dejection.

“It’s really nothing to get upset over.”

“Of course it is.” Sael sighed. “I’m a failure.”

He looked at his feet, hanging off the edge of the bed. They were every bit as pink and white as any noble’s feet. They were clean, too, which was more than most could say in all the Eastern and Western Kingdoms. And yet, the privilege, too, had failed to make a difference during the initiation ceremony. He recalled a peasant earning the right to call himself a vönan just days before his own ceremony.

Sael sighed again. This time, his curled blonde hair swept over his eyes as he slouched. If Father were to see him now, he’d get such a chewing out.

Geilin clucked his tongue, as if to chastise him for his gloomy mood.

“I mean it, Master. I’m just not fit for… well… anything.” Had Father had his way, Sael would be in-training to be dekan of a small city. But as it stood, his Father had let him pick his own destiny. It had been Sael’s happiest day when the Vek of Worlen had agreed to his second son becoming a fire mage-in-training. Now, that destiny was shattered. Perhaps yesterday had been his worst day. No, Sael corrected himself. Yesterday, Father had still been in Worlen.

“You did everything you could have done, if it’s any condolence.” Then Geilin turned to the side and cupped his chin. He looked every bit the archetypal philosopher. The eye tattooed on his bald head, a representation of the Eye of Atnu, seemed to glow golden. “Still, it’s very curious why your magic just seemed to fail like that. Very curious. I shall have to look in the archives for similar such incidents.”

“You’ll be telling my father, won’t you?” Sael couldn’t get his voice to sound any stronger. It sounded petulant and lame, like a child who wasn’t getting his way and was sad for it.

“Yes, yes. I shall have to tell him.”

Deep in Sael’s heart, he knew his father would be overjoyed at the news that his son wouldn’t be becoming a vönan any time soon.

“But look at it this way,” Geilin turned to him, “at least you won’t have to shave your head.”

Sael made a face. “I wouldn’t have had to anyway.”

“Well, at least it’s for sure now.”

Most trainees had their heads shaved and their bodies tattooed after successfully initiating. Only members of the noblest families in the land were exempt from the practice of having their heads shaved. It had been explained that the gods always watched these nobles a little more closely, so there was little need to be an obvious target.

Sael was going to say how he hadn’t quite given up on magic. Although the time had come and gone for him to be in the higher circles, he still wanted to learn about it. Even though…

He would have said this to Geilin, but at that moment, there was a knock on the door and Sael was broken from his thoughts.

“Come in,” he called.

He thought Jekh would appear with a finely tailored outfit and a lunch tray. Instead, it was Devin, the head butler himself.

“Your Highness,” he said grimly, “there’s been an accident.”

-

If Koreh had been told he’d be incapacitating a young man the second he’d entered Harleh Keep, he would have turned straight back to gü-Khemed. Of course, he’d dreamed about this moment, just not this part. He dreamed of pushing the young man into the street. He hadn’t dreamt further than this, however. He hadn’t known that this would happen. In fact, he’d been expecting that the opposite would happen—that he’d somehow save the man from getting run over by a cart. As it stood, he’d pushed the man in the path of a cart and the poor fellow was now half-way pinned underneath it.

As he tried to lift the cart and help the poor man, his thoughts were screaming. Why him?

The answer came, as it always did, like a whisper in his ear, like images flashing through his head. It was necessary.

Really? Koreh almost lashed out at the voice in his head, however impossible that was.

But the voice did not come again. Koreh used all his strength and still the cart wouldn’t budge. It was at that moment, however, when he saw others making their way into the street to help him. It took about four of them to life it and another to drag the man out from underneath it and out of the street.

At least the man seemed conscious, albeit in a serious amount of pain.

Koreh followed the injured man and the person who carried him. There didn’t seem to be any need to, but he felt responsible for what had happened. And it was like the Taaweh were whispering again to him. Follow him.

The man who carried him was a muscular man. He seemed to be a farmer for a living, or something equally as labor intensive. His muscles bulged and the man had pushed seemed like a sack of flour in his grasp. He was even hanging off the man’s back like a sack of flour, too.

Koreh made his way through the streets, training the farmer. His name was Mak and he was a miller’s son. He’d seen someone was in the street and rushed to help.

“Ya needn’t follow, uh…”

“Koreh…”

“Koreh…” The name rolled on the man’s tongue like an exotic wine. “Ya from th’ West?”

“Yes,” was all Koreh said. “I just… I feel it was my fault he got injured.”

If the man hanging off of Mak’s back had heard Koreh, he showed no indication. His eyes were closed, as if he were in a deep, fitful sleep.

“Where are you taking him?” Koreh asked. They’d been walking for a while now, going up the streets as the city inclined. Surely, they must have passed an ömem by now.

“T’ th’ castle. I reckon this one’s a valet.”

“Valet?” Koreh had never heard the term before.

“Y’know, a bu’ler, a servan’.”

“Oh…” Now that Koreh inspected him closely, the man’s clothing seemed too fine for regular street clothes.

Koreh stared up at the looming castle. It wouldn’t be a long walk, but the way they were going, passing through the various gates, it might take a while. He dropped back a little and held his hand close to the man. When he was sure no one was looking, and under the cover of overhanging roofs, he used the healing magic the Taaweh had taught him. As the light blue sparks flowed over his body, the man seemed to adopt a more peaceful expression. The magic wouldn’t be able to heal him right away, but at least it would speed up the healing process.

By the time they reached the final gate, the man seemed to be sleeping calmly. The guards called for a cart, so that the man would could be escorted into the castle with ease. It still seemed ironic to Koreh, however. He tried to suppress a small grin and found the guards eyeing him with suspicion.

“Since he’s a member of the household,” the guard explained, “I’ll need one of you to give statements about what happened.”

Mak seemed to stiffen at those words. No doubt he was intimidated by these guards.

“I’ll do it,” Koreh offered.

“Righ’ you are.” Mak nodded. “Guess I’ll be goin’ then.”

They said their goodbyes and Mak invited him to an ale house. “Don’ ma’er the nigh’. I’ll be there.” With that he was walking down the hill, likely off to work again.

The guards then began to question him. He said all he could, which wasn’t much, except the part about pushing the poor valet.

To his surprise, the guards instructed him that he would be questioned shortly. Again, Koreh thought. Then he was being pushed into the castle’s gates by one of them. The feel was reminiscent of the guards back in gü-Khemed, and he shuddered. For a second, he expected to be pushed behind a bush and forced to submit to their will.

But that wouldn’t be the case. He was led into the castle and asked to sit in a waiting room.The chairs were upholstered in geometrical patterns of red and gold. The wooden furniture was shined like jewels. And the pairings showed the highest attention to detail, whether it was landscapes or portraits.

It was might have been more luxurious than anything Koreh had ever seen before. But he had seen it. This exact room. In a dream one night, he’d been here. A Taaweh had been there, too. She’d explained he’d need to convince the man who was to meet him that he wanted to work here. To be of service. To be—he now knew the word—a valet.

Ah, now it all made sense. The castle was now down one valet and who should step into his place but…

The door opened and an older looking man entered. He wore a similar uniform to the previous valet, and yet he had an air about him that seemed to scream important.

“Good afternoon, Sir.” The man greeted him.

Koreh jumped to his feet, not sure if he was meant to bow or not. Instead, he tilted his head slightly and muttered, “good afternoon.”

“I am Diven, head of His Lordship’s, The Dekan of Harleh’s, household staff. I understand you witnessed an incident containing one of our servants.”

“Y-yes.” Koreh related the incident—as he called it—once again, leaving out the fact that it was he who had pushed Jekh.

“I see,” the valet said. He had listened to the story without the slightest hint of emotion, which irked Koreh to no end.

Then, Diven held out a bag. Koreh heard the unmistakable clink of coin.

“His Highness would like to thank you for your troubles.”

Koreh held out his hand and felt the weight of the bag. He was awe-struck. This was probably more money than he’d had in his entire life. Still, he felt guilty about it. It was Mak who should have this money, not him.

“I will see to it that the guards escort you out.”

The valet began to turn, but Koreh yelled, “No! Wait!”

The man turned around slowly. “Is something wrong with the sum you’ve been compensated with?” He didn’t seem like he was willing to negotiate.

“Yes, in fact.” Koreh stood firm. “There was another man with me. He carried the valet, Jekh, here but needed to go back to work by the time we arrived at the castle. Really, you should be giving this to him.”

“And who is this man, Mak?”

“He’s um… a miller’s son. He says he’ll be at the Kikid Ale House tonight.”

“Very well. We shall see to it that the man is compensated as well.”

The valet was about to leave again when Koreh grabbed hold of his arm. “I uh… I don’t need this.” He dropped the coin purse into the man’s hand. “Give it to Mak.”

“To refuse an offer from His Lordship is most unwise.” Diven pursed his lips, the only facial expression he’d made the entire conversation.

“I—I’m not refusing an offer. I want something else.”

“His Lordship will listen to your terms, within reason.”

Koreh offered to be hired on the spot, in exactly the way the Taaweh had told him to do it, forged documents and all.

Diven’s eyebrows seemed to reach his scalp, but he did not refuse him.

—

“Your Highness, as you are well aware, there will be a serious shortage of valets with the vek coming. And as it stands, Jekh will not be able to work for what the ömem say will be months,” Dekan was saying.

Sael hadn’t quite rid himself of his mopey mood. If anything, it was mopier. He sat in the study, poring over the archives with Geilin. So far, there had been no mention of a trainee’s magic simply disappearing.

His fingers let go of the scroll, that instantly rolled up again, snapping at his fingers like an angry bird.

“Months?”

“Yes, Your Highness. The injuries were severe, but thankfully, not fatal.”

Sael felt his heart sink. He was worried beyond imagining for Jekh. He’d employed him two years ago because the thought of having a handsome man as his valet had always intrigued him. Jekh, besides being exceptionally handsome, was also a wonderful servant. He’d always been able to anticipate Sael’s needs, sometimes better than Sael himself. Now he’d be without him. And on the day his father arrived, to top it all off.

For perhaps the tenth time that day, Sael found himself sighing. Everything was going wrong. Perhaps a holiday had been announced without his knowing. Torment Sael Day. It definitely seemed like something his father might take part in.

“But I have some good news.” Devin’s face did not show good news. Like always, it showed nothing at all. “A new valet has come under our employ.”

This perked Sael up. “A new valet?”

“Yes, Your Highness. He comes with excellent recommendations from a noble house in gü-Khemed.” If Devin seemed like he was pleased with himself, he didn’t show it. “He will serve as your valet in the interim.”

At least it couldn’t get any worse, Sael thought.

“He starts tomorrow. The staff is training him now.” Then Devin cleared his throat. “Also, word has been sent that the vek will arrive precisely at Namom, and I shall be your attendant this evening.”

No, it could get worse, Sael now knew. Why had he thought any different?

-

The Vek of Worlen had never been told he was an intimidating man. He knew he was. Since a young age, he’d been raised to show only the most severe side of himself. This had worked splendidly in political situations, even with the Emperor himself. But as far as other situations had gone, it hadn’t worked in his favor. Sure, Seffni, and his late wife, Nara, had never fallen for his facade. But Sael.

Sael was practically afraid of him and Worlen wasn’t sure just what to do about that.

His youngest son had seemed absolutely petrified when he’d walked in the hall. They hadn’t had much time to talk as Seffni caught him up with the latest dealings in the West. Harleh served as a gateway to the Emperor’s domain and it seemed the old croon was attempting to spread his influence even farther into the East. All ready, guards were defecting—yes, he thought of it as defecting although they were all technically one kingdom—to work in gü-Khemed. They had more privileges there, he’d been told, but if careening drunken in the streets was a privilege, the vek wanted none of it.

In the meantime, Sael had seemingly slipped away from them. No matter, Worlen thought, they’d talk soon enough.

-

Tonight, Sael had chosen a red wine instead of his customary white. Jekh might have shown an expression of surprise, but Devin had said nothing, whisking the white away and returning with a savory red.

The meal tonight was lamb served with springtime vegetables, along with an assortment of other seasonal dishes. Sael loved the smell of rosemary that radiated from the meat. He watched as it glistened under the light of the the three grand chandeliers.

In truth, he was famished. He’d hardly eaten anything the entire day because of the anxiety over having to talk with his father. Still, the lamb seemed too good to pass up, and he found himself indulging in little pieces. Red wine had been a good compliment, although the acidic taste stayed on his tongue longer than he was expecting it to.

He carefully eyed his father in the moment while he wasn’t eating. Worlen was engaged in a conversation with Seffni and Tanum. He was close enough to hear the words “children” and “heirs,” but he could quite catch the rest of it. Father always brought a lot of chatter with him, whether he intended to or not.

By the time dessert arrived, Sael could only manage a spoonful. The time would be soon when Worlen would talk to him and he knew he wasn’t ready. Perhaps he’d faint right then and there and have to be brought back by an ömem and her smelling salts. That, really, would be the best-case scenario. He hadn’t yet imagined what the worst would be.

-  
The vek was seated in a chair by the fireplace as Sael entered. He’d chosen his personal audience chamber to talk to his son. He’d also drawn the curtains, and no one else was present. This would be a private conversation.

“Do you remember, Sael, how you convinced me to have you train as an acolyte?”

“Yes, father.” Sael was astonished that his voice sounded so calm. “I argued that a vönan with a close alliance to our family would be invaluable.”

“And do you know why I agreed?’

“I…” Now Sael was losing his words. “I did not ask.”

“Because,” Worlen said, “the vönan, like the ömem, are only loyal to themselves, and I thought your brother may need a vönan who was loyal to him.”

“Yes, father.”

“So you see, Sael,” Worlen went on as if he hadn’t heard him, “you have not only failed yourself. You have also failed your brother and the future of the veikit.”

Sael could think of nothing to say to this. There were no excuses. As the vek always said, a Menaük did not lose, and here he was, losing his sense of honor and his words with it. He felt the faintest hint of dizziness and looked down.

“Sael!” His father’s voice boomed, so that he was forced to look up. “My patience with you is at an end. It is too late now to choose a different path, and yet you’ve blundered the one you’ve been on.” Worlen touched his forehead and pressed his eyes closed. “You do realize, as long as Seffni fails to produce an heir, you are the next in line for the tondekan of Harleh.”

“Yes, father.”

Worlen leaned back in his chair. It was the first time Sael had ever seen his father so tired. Not even in his worst negotiations with the Emperor had he had appeared so taxed. “Just tell me why you failed, Sael.”

“I.. I don’t know, Father.”

“Master Geilin has informed me your magic has stopped. Is that true?”

Sael took a long breath and felt tears begin to sting his eyes. “Y-yes.” He’d been avoiding that fact more ardently than he’d been dreading his father’s arrival. It was true. All that training and praying gone to waste. The reason he’d stayed in bed until midday was because there was no longer any reason to perform the ritualistic dances of Penent and Cabbon. He was completely powerless.

“And yet you still don’t know the cause of it?”

“I-I don’t, Father.” His voice was growing weaker. He knew he’d start shaking soon if the vek continued on like he was.

“Then I suggest you find the reason. Use any means necessary, within reason. You are the heir apparent to Harleh and perhaps all of the East. You must find the cause and you must have that lead you to the solution.”

Worlen’s voice was so strong he was practically yelling. But Sael knew, somehow, that his father was trying to sound encouraging.

“I will, Father!” Sael felt his strength renewed. Perhaps if his father believed in him, then…

“Then there’s no time to waste. Master Geilin has sent for more scrolls. I expect you to help him first thing in the morning.”

“I’ll start right now.”

“Yes, good.” Worlen nodded.

Sael was soon dismissed. In truth, he still felt terrible. His powers were gone, seemingly vanished. And yet, he had a purpose again. He could almost rejoice. The doors to the vek’s chamber shut just before he could hear the whisper, “have both my sons been cursed by the gods?”

-

Koreh had, of course, lied about the reference or ever having been a valet. The training that afternoon had been exhausting and was relieved to be on a cot in the servant’s quarters right now. Did the Taaweh actually think he could pass for a valet? Sure, he was a quick learner, if learning Taaweh magic was anything to go by, but manners were another thing. He’d been raised as a peasant, a prospective farmer, and it would take a very long time before he resembled anything like a proper valet.

As things were going now, he had until tomorrow. Koreh rolled over in the cot. It wasn’t uncomfortable, and it beat sleeping on the ground as he had done for the many years after his parents had died. Still, he might have preferred the moss bed he’d found in the Taaweh ruins to the rickety old thing.

He wasn’t surprised when he started dreaming. The dreams always came, along with the Taaweh messengers, ready to teach him a new magic or show his a piece of the future.

There was no Taaweh in this dream, however. He dreamed he was in a luxurious bed. One much grander than the one he currently occupied. He might have snuggled into it, only there was someone else in it. Underneath him.

The boy was beautiful. His hair was the golden that reminded Koreh of wheat fields and sunshine. And his eyes were verdant green, almost too bright to be real. And, there was another thing about him that made Koreh’s heart flutter. The boy was completely naked.

No, this wasn’t a Taaweh dream at all.

Just before the dream drifted off, Koreh heard himself moan something.

“Sael…”


	2. Chapter 2

Sael was dreaming of mist again. The “Mist Walls” was the local term for it and it seemed many people in Harleh and its outer villages had such dreams. 

He was vaguely aware of this fact as he followed a figure in the mist. He couldn’t make out their face, but he knew it was a boy, about his age, from the way it walked. 

“You there! Slow down!” he shouted through the mist. 

The figure seemed to turn to him and tilt its head, and yet it kept walking. 

Sael sped up, sometimes tripping over stone and clumps of grass. 

Finally, he caught up with the boy. He grabbed on to his wrist and tried to get a good look at him. But it was no use. His face was completely obscured by shadows. 

Then he was standing in an elaborate hall. He’d stood in such halls before, but this one seemed grander than the ones he’d seen in Harleh and Worlen. Was it the hall of the Stronni?, he wondered. No, it couldn’t be… 

Suddenly, there was a shrill sound of peeling laughter. A mocking voice said from behind him, “My boy. Have you truly been cursed by the gods?” 

Sael woke up violently. He’d collapsed on a pile of books and scrolls. The fire in the hearth had waned to embers. When he looked around, it appeared that Master Geilin had also fallen asleep, only the man had found a much more comfortable position in a divan. 

The chair creaked as Sael straitened his back. He heard the vertebrae pop and wondered if he’d have a pain in the morning. Speaking of morning, it seemed much later than Manduccot. Not that he had reason to worry about that anymore. Instead, Sael rose and paced the room. He hadn’t found any leads and it was annoying and frustrating all at the same time. He wanted to scream at the scrolls and demand why he couldn’t use magic anymore. Still, that would accomplish little more than a joke paid at his expense from Master Geilin. 

His mind then flitted back to the dream he’d had. He didn’t particularly want to remember. It’d been eerie, more nightmare than dream. But his mind didn’t seem to be cooperating. It showed him images of the mist and the strange figure, and then the hall and the haunting voice. 

Could it be? Could he have been cursed by the gods? He tried to erase the thought from his head, yet it still kept coming back. The Stronni were known for their vengefulness. In the legends, most of their anger had been directed at believers of the old way. But Sael knew he’d done everything right. He’d prayed to them at all four hours of the day and he’d even been willing to offer his life to become their humble servant. 

Perhaps he’d slipped up somewhere. Somewhere along the way he’d done something to offend them, yet Sael couldn’t think of what that had been. Even Master Geilin, blessed by the Stronni with the most powerful magic in the land, had said he’d done everything right. So what was it? 

Sael was once again dejected. He dragged his feet out of the room and into his own bedroom. The halls were empty except for the guards. There were more than usual posted after the vek’s arrival. They saluted him, but did not even speak a whisper. 

As he climbed into bed, Sael vowed to find the cause of his problem. At least with that, he had something to show his father. 

Father… 

He loved his father. No matter the distance and difficulties between them, he knew he would always love him. The man was Vek of Worlen, strong and fierce and incredible. Sael wanted to be like him someday. Perhaps not so severe, but just as level-headed and commanding. 

With that thought, Sael drifted off to sleep, hoping that no dreams would accost him again. 

-

It was well after Penent when Sael woke again. His room might have been bathed in light from the Eye if it weren’t for the fact that no one had come in to draw the curtains. Sael found that odd. Didn’t Jekh usually do that before waking him? 

Then he remembered. Jekh was injured. There would be a new valet today. 

Sael did not think the new one would be as handsome as Jekh, although, coming from the noble houses of gü-Khemed, he had to be at least approaching Jekh’s skill. That was what he thought, but the reality was far from the truth. 

There wasn’t even an knock at his door as the new valet burst open. He appeared to be trying to carry a tray of tea in both hands, so that his entrance was necessitated by him opening the door with his hind quarters. 

He also nearly dropped the serving tray as he tried to turn around. 

But that wasn’t all Sael had been wrong about. 

The boy was beautiful. Shiny black hair framed his face and his eyes were the most wonderful and sparkling shade of blue. 

When he finally stopped spinning around and nearly dropping the tea, the boy caught his breath. Only then did he seem to be aware of Sael. 

“Oh, it’s you.” 

“Excuse me?” 

His new valet gave a satisfied sigh. “Here I thought I’d have to search for you, and you’re right here.” 

“What do you mean right here? This is my room.” 

“Course it is.” He said casually, admiring the place. He whistled. “Nice place you got here.” 

“I don’t like your tone.” Sure, the boy looked beautiful, but he was also an idiot. 

“Eh,” he shrugged, “it is what it is.” 

Then he approached and set the tea tray down rather quickly on Sael chest. 

“This is how you do it, right?” 

“No,” Sael shook his head. He shoved the tea tray away and rose up in the pillows. “I’m supposed to be sitting like this.” 

“Okay.” He tried to set the tray down again, but Sael stopped him. “No, you’re doing it wrong again.” 

“What am I doing wrong?” 

Everything, Sael wanted to say. “What kind of tea is it? Where does it come from? For all I know it could be poison.” 

“It’s not,” the boy said, lifting the lid of the tea pot and looking inside. “Uh, it looks like leaves to me.” He then put his nose so insufferably close to it that Sael was led to believe that a nose hair or something worse might have fallen in. “Smells like leaves too. Sweet leaves. Sweet leaf tea.” 

The tray went down and Sael’s revulsion went up. 

“I—I don’t want any right now. Draw my bath.” 

“‘Course, little lord.” He looked around for a tub. Having found it, he started heading in the opposite direction. 

“Where are you going?” Sael asked, cooly. 

“To get water. Do you know where they keep the water around here?” 

Sael pointed to the tub. “There’s a spigot. All you need to do is turn it.” 

As the water filled the tub, Sael contemplated undressing. He’d fallen asleep in his clothes from last night, at least just a shirt and undergarments, but he was both too shy and too repulsed by the new valet to undress in front of him. Even the thought was harrowing. 

“What’s wrong with you? Your cheeks are getting red. You’re not sick, are you?” 

Sael shook his head. “No, I…” He needed a diversion, and fast. “What’s your name?” 

“Koreh,” the young man said. 

“And where do you come from, Koreh?” Sael let the name slide on his tongue. 

“gü-Khemed.” 

Of course, Sael already knew that. He’d meant Koreh to elucidate him on everything about his background, as new servants were always so apt to do. He certainly didn’t expect these indecorous answers. 

“I mean, what house did you come from? What family? Why did you leave? Who are your parents?” 

His new valet, Koreh, seemed lost for words. 

It seemed, at that moment, the bath was full, because it started overflowing, making a mess of the rugs and flooring. 

“Uh oh.” Koreh leapt to turn off the water. When he finally figured out that turning the spigot in the opposite direction turned the water off, the water had crept dangerously close to Sael’s bed. Koreh called over his shoulder, “got a mop?” 

-

Koreh was pretty sure mornings were a good indicator for how the rest of your day would go, and this morning had been disastrous. Not only had he’d been assigned to be at the beck and call of a spoiled brat, but he’d also destroyed the brat’s room in the process. Perhaps the latter had been less of an accident. 

He couldn’t imagine why the Taaweh wanted him to interact with that young nobleman. It didn’t seem he had any value beyond being a perpetual pain in the ass. 

Still, he was certain Sael was the key to why he was here. Why else would he need to push his valet into a horrible accident or beg to take his place? And the dream. Had that been another premonition given to him by the Taaweh. If so, he just couldn’t imagine it now. Sure, the boy was beautiful, a sort of vulnerable beauty that got Koreh all tense and worked up about, but his personality had so much to be desired. He was almost overjoyed when he been asked to leave as the boy prepared to take his bath. 

He also knew he’d be off for some time that morning. He wasn’t yet trusted to dress Sael in his formal clothes. Diven would be overseeing that for the time being. But it was a shame he wouldn’t be able to see Sael naked this morning. 

Koreh shook his head and made for the servant’s quarters. Maybe it wasn’t a shame at all. He’d just have to start dreaming again. 

-

Worlen sat in the sunroom, less basking in the light than conducting political business. It was on a day like this, when the Eye of Atnu was clear in the sky, that he had the abject pleasure of speaking to His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor. 

Of course, they couldn’t really communicate. Not with their own voices. An ömem was the surrogate for such exchanges. They had the Sight and could see with their third eye, the on-goings of everything under Atnu’s and Druma’s watchful eyes. In order to communicate with the Emperor, Worlen had assigned Thuna to create a connection with another ömem in gü-Khemed. Through their eyes and voices, it became possible for the vek to hear the Emperor’s words. Just not in the emperor’s voice. The practice was expensive and demanded great concentration among the ömem involved, not to mention a perfectly clear day, so it was relegated to only the highest circles and for usually only the most monumental requests. Of course, the Emperor started the conversation with small talk. 

“I am informed you look healthy, Your Grace,” Thuna said, but it was the Emperor’s words.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” He did not honor the emperor with a similar comment. 

“Tell me. How are your sons?” 

“Well enough.” The pleasantries were getting into dangerous territory. 

“I see. No doubt the Dekan of Harleh honors you. I have heard great things about his leadership. A pity I have not yet met him in person.” 

If you’d come out of your palace and stop being so damn paranoid, you might, Worlen wanted to say. “Your offer was greatly considered, Your Majesty, but I felt it best if Seffni remain in Harleh to train in administration.” 

“You are quite right. But you have another son, don’t you? What was his name? Sanel?” 

“Sael, Your Majesty.” Worlen punctuated the vowels but doubted the ömem on the other side would do the same. 

“Ah yes, Sael. I recall I also offered to house your son as he studied the arts of the vönan. I wonder, how is he fairing?” 

Worlen gave an uneasy sigh that he trusted Thuna to not relate. Whether she did or not was anybody’s guess. “I’m sorry to say not good, Your Majesty. His powers seem to have vanished.” 

“Vanished? I’ve never heard of such a thing. How strange.” There was no emotion in Thuna’s voice but Worlen almost heard the sarcasm. 

“It is indeed, Your Majesty.” Regardless of the Emperor’s reaction, it was something they both agreed on. Sael’s sudden loss of power had been weighing on the vek’s mind since he heard of it from a messenger in Worlen. Could it be the work of his enemies? Or was it a sign from the gods? A disease? 

“Then I have a preposition for you, Vek of Worlen.” Here it was. The real reason the Emperor had been adamant about using this communication method instead of messengers. “I once again offer to house your son, Sael dönz Menaük, in my palace in gü-Khemed. The archives and academies here are more vast than those in the East, I understand, and your son may find the reason for his plight here.” Worlen opened his mouth, but it appeared the emperor wasn’t finished. “I can also supply him with acolytes, caeden, and vönan alike to further his teachings.” 

“Your offer is most generous, Your Majesty.” 

“I’d like a response now, Lüxen.” The Emperor was a paranoid and suspicious man, but he was not stupid. He knew exactly what he was asking of Worlen and knew he would get it too. 

“Perhaps I can sweeten the deal.” The Emperor’s words made Worlen’s skin crawl. “You must be aware by now that the plague from seven years ago is making a resurgence in certain villages. Fortunately, the cities of the West seem well off enough, but I take it the East, especially Harleh, would be quite vulnerable to an outbreak.” 

“Go on.” 

“I have stores of the tinctures used to cure the last plague victims, all made by the most experienced ömem. I could send the phials to you.” 

The plagues of the East had never hit the Western kingdom due to the strict trade bans the vek had put into place. Still, it was true that Eastern villages were now reporting outbreaks of plague and it was only a matter of time before it found its way into the East’s major cities. Harleh, with its high walls and close quarters would cause the plague to spread like wildfire. To top it off, the Emperor had a stranglehold on the country’s best ömem. If a plague should hit an Eastern city, there would be casualties in the tens of thousands.

“How long would my son be in gü-Khemed?” 

“For however long it takes him to find what he’s looking for. And I assure you, the greatest accommodations will be at his disposal. I will even assign members of my personal guard to look after him.” 

“You are most kind, Your Majesty.” Worlen felt sick. He was tired of being the Emperor’s pawn, but just like that, he’d been cornered. 

“So have you decided, Lüxen?” Worlen imagined the emperor said his name as if it were a curse word. 

“Very well, Your Majesty.” 

“Excellent. I expect his arrival soon. Only then will I send the phials.” 

At that, Thuna’s focus seemed to break. She shook her head a few times and then looked expectantly at Worlen. 

“Damn it all!” Worlen shouted, slamming the table beside him to the ground. Thuna did not say a word. It was not often the vek lost control of his emotions, but when he did, it raged hotter and with more ferocity than any spell a vönan could cast.

-

“Bad morning or good night?” Geilin commented as Sael strode into the study. Just like before, he was on the divan. Only now he was crouched over documents that looked at least 100 years old. 

“Both,” Sael slumped down on a chair next to him. Before Geilin’s smile grew too wide, Sael muttered, “both were bad.” 

As they read and scanned the texts, Sael told his master about his bumbling, new valet. 

“Most exquisite!” The older man said at the end of Sael’s long, slightly whining, rant. 

“What do you mean, master?” 

“I’ve found yet another recipe for that drink I concocted for you. I’ll have to try this one soon.” He tucked the paper lovingly away in his robe. 

“Master. Please! Now is not the time. I want to find something about this before Father leaves.” The vek was set to leave Harleh the day after tomorrow, and Sael needed all the help he could get. 

“Of course, of course. I was merely reminding you that sometimes we find great things when we aren’t even looking.” 

Sael nodded. It was at that time that there was a knock at the door. The first though that flashed through Sael’s mind was that at least it couldn’t be his fool of a valet. That boy didn’t even know how to knock. 

“Come in.” 

As it turned out, a messenger of the vek’s had been at the door. 

“Your Highness, you have been summoned by the Vek of Worlen. He expects your presence immediately.” 

-

Koreh was finding out a lot about Harleh castle in the short amount of time he’d been there. In short, servants liked to talk. Nothing was off-limits. The latest gossip about servants falling into noblemen’s beds, the fifth pregnancy of a noblewoman whose husband’s genitals were ruined in a horse racing accident, and of course, the vek. 

“I heard he spoke with the Emperor, yes I did.” 

“The Emperor? Here?” 

“No, you fool. He used the Sight to speak.” 

“Speak? ‘bout what?” 

“The ömem who did it’s keepn’ mum, but wa I ‘eard was he was raging at the end.” 

“Th’ Emperor and his demands.” One scullery maid was shaking her head. Another was spitting on the ground. 

The noise in the quarters soon became unbearable and Koreh made his way out into the gardens. It was pleasant here. Koreh couldn’t explain it, but ever since the Taaweh had begun contacting him, he felt a greater connection to living things and the earth that surrounded them. In fact, that’s how he’d come to Harleh. He’d simply gone through the earth from gü-Khemed. It was at least a week’s walk, and he’d found he’d arrived in Harleh almost instantly. Whatever discomfort he felt about being surrounded by earth, the reward was nice. 

It was then that he noticed the hooded figure standing in the shadow of an alcove. 

“Iinyeh Koreh,” the Taaweh said as Koreh approached. 

“That dream I had last night, it was you, wasn’t it?” 

The Taaweh didn’t answer. At least, not directly. “Some dreams come from us, Iinyeh, and some are already in you.” 

He could still see Sael’s naked body pressed up against his. What a pleasure it had been compared to the real thing. 

Koreh snorted. “So that boy. He’s part of this too, isn’t he?” He almost felt sorry for Sael. Almost. A gripping feeling kept telling him that the Taaweh would demand much of him. In Koreh’s head, this made perfect sense, as they were teaching him magic at the same time. But what would Sael get out of it? From Koreh’s understanding, and the servants’ gossip, the boy could no longer use magic. 

“You must protect him, Iinyeh. Just know, you cannot protect him from everything.” 

With that, the Taaweh vanished. 

It took Koreh a few moments to reorient himself to the sunlight as he walked back into the courtyard. These new revelations were troubling, but not unexpected. So the Taaweh wanted him to play bodyguard for a while. He bet he could do that better than being a valet. He whistled as he came back into the kitchen. 

It was unlucky that Diven had been there at that exact moment. 

“Servants do not whistle!”   
-

“gü-Khemed? But father, why?” Two days ago, Sael might have jumped at the chance to go to the capital and study with the masters. Now, there was no point. 

“The Emperor…. insisted….” It was like his father was choosing his words wisely. More likely, he was trying to control the emotion attached to those words. 

“But I don’t understand. Years ago, the Emperor requested the same thing and you refused.” He remembered being nearly ecstatic when he heard the news, only to be shot down by his father’s weary refusal. 

“It’s different this time.” 

Sael looked down. The words that came next were hard to say. “Is it because I’ve lost my magic?” 

“Magic or no, his request would have been the same, as is my answer.” 

He looked up and studied his father’s face. The man seemed more wrinkled and tired now, even more so than the night before. Sael felt empathy for his father. He wanted to hug him, as young children hugged their mothers or sisters. 

“I see, Father.” Sael was finally beginning to understand the reason for his father’s drained expression. “It would be shameful for us to refuse.” 

The vek sighed. It was a heavy one, and Sael realized just how alike he and his father were. Worlen slumped too when he sighed. “Sael, I know I’ve been hard on you, but, if I could, I would prevent anything from bringing you harm.” 

He knew that would be the closest his father would come to saying he loved him, but Sael accepted it for what it was. 

“Very well, Father.” Sael’s eyes lit up with determination. “I will go to gü-Khemed. I will make you proud.” 

The vek did not smile at that. Instead, he rose from his chair and strode to the window. Sael couldn’t hear what he said. It was barely a whisper. 

But Koreh, who had been listening just outside the window, heard. 

“Gods have pity on my son.”


	3. Chapter 3

Koreh hadn’t meant to snoop around, least of all outside the vek’s window. But, the Taaweh had told him that this Sael was important and therefore he needed to learn more about him. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on such a private conversation between the boy and his father. Only, maybe he had. After all, he now knew that Sael would be going to gü-Khemed soon and the vek seemed terrified about the idea. 

Of course, Koreh had first-hand knowledge about how terrible the capital could be. The guards, when they weren’t harassing the poor, were rounding up the homeless youth for bouts of fun. But it wasn’t only the guards who cause harm to a majority of the impoverished populace. The Emperor seemed above giving aid to the poor and Koreh had seen many people in the poor quarters starving in the streets. 

Truly, Koreh had no desire to go back to gü-Khemed, but it seemed he would have to. 

But that wasn’t all Koreh was worried about. 

After catching him whistling, Diven had taken it upon himself to teach Koreh the proper etiquette of conducting one’s self in a royal household. He’d also instructed him on the finer points of attending to a noble, including dressing them. 

Now, Koreh’s latest task was to dress Sael for dinner. 

“And be sure nothing is out of place. His Highness will once again be dining with the Vek of Worlen tonight.” 

After training, Koreh hadn’t had much time to himself. By chance, he heard Sael and the vek talking. But even after that, he knew he had to rush to Sael’s room and find an outfit that would be suitable for such an esteemed occasion. 

Koreh wondered if the Taaweh had somehow doomed him to a life of serving the nobility. He couldn’t exactly say he was displeased with a job, three meals a day, and a bed to sleep on. He’d just thought the Taaweh had needed him for something grander than… 

The door clicked and Koreh spun around. Sael was eying him cautiously. 

“Where is Diven?” he asked. 

“I’m to dress you tonight,” Koreh said. “Or whatever.” 

“I don’t trust you.” Sael didn’t seem interested in bringing up the tub incident, but it was written all over his face. Koreh noticed someone had come to mop up all the water and change out the rugs. The room was completely spotless again, but still, Sael seemed to avoid even going near it. “I want Diven.” Sael said quickly as he sat himself down at a chair. 

Well, you got me. “The old man’s busy, tonight. He said something about preparing for an upcoming journey.” 

Sael’s eyes widened in shock. “Then he already—” He stopped himself. “No, of course he would know.” His lips contorted into a frown and he looked miserably at the floor. 

So Sael was also upset over the prospect of leaving for gü-Khemed. At least that was one thing the both of them had in common. 

Bong! A sound rung, seeming to come from the vary bowels of the castle itself. 

“W-what was that?” Koreh had never heard such an unearthly sound before. Were they under attack? Was there a monster underneath the castle? 

Sael eyed him suspiciously, his green eyes at once weary and ridiculing. “What kind of valet’s never heard a dressing gong before?” 

Then Sael rose, spreading out his arms. 

“Are we going somewhere?" 

“No, you fool,” Sael nearly yelled at him, “you need to help me dress.”

“Fine, fine little lord.” Koreh watched as Sael’s mouth quirked with distaste. 

“Is it fashionable in the capital to hire reviling servants?” Sael asked as Koreh took off his coat. 

Koreh almost said, I wouldn’t know. Instead, he said, “I suppose it’s charming for some folk.” 

He tucked the coat under his arm, as he’d practiced with Diven, and then disappeared into the closet. He was soon out once again with a more elaborate coat of blue velvet embroidered with shining silver thread. He knew the vek’s colors were red and gold, but he’d grown so tired of seeing the colors everywhere in Harleh. He’d also found a fancier shirt and breeches than the ones Sael currently had on. 

Koreh spread out the garments on a chair so Sael could inspect them. 

He gave a quick once-over to each piece, but he didn’t seem displeased. “You have good taste, I suppose,” he said begrudgingly. “But I won’t change out the breeches.” He didn’t explain why, but Koreh could guess. The ones he currently had on were white and of a simple fashion. They’d match practically with anything. But the other reason, Koreh guessed, was that Sael didn’t want to be completely naked around him.

“Very well, little lord.” 

Now came the part Koreh was secretly dreading. Diven had told him to show no emotion when he undressed a noble. Easy for him to say! The man hardly had any emotion at all!

But there was no helping it. Koreh came right up to Sael. He was almost half a head taller than him and Koreh took a moment to appreciate the close distance. Sael’s lips were a light pink, scrunched tightly in a slight grimace. A shade of pink was also starting to dust his cheeks. 

“Well, I’m waiting.” 

Koreh went to work, unbuttoning the shirt down Sael’s chest and again at his wrists. Underneath, Sael wore a simple linen undershirt. As Koreh pulled the shirt away, he saw that the undershirt was bit loose, hanging over Sael’s shoulders like a barmaid’s chimese. 

The sight of that skin made Koreh’s mind reel. He wanted to run a hand over those thin shoulders and comb his fingers where that curling blonde hair tucked around the boy’s neck. 

“Honestly, you’ll make me late for dinner.” Sael sounded like he was losing his patience, though Koreh doubted he had much to begin with. 

“All right, hold your horses.” Koreh contented himself to merely look at the delicate skin before it was obscured by the ruffles and pomp of the new shirt. 

By the time Koreh made the final adjustments to the coat, it was nearly time for dinner. 

Right before Sael left, a thought came to Koreh’s mind. “Shall I draw the bath for you before you return?” 

“How thoughtful of you.” Sael was practically sneering, but he didn’t say no. 

Koreh allowed himself to smile as he opened the door for Sael. At least the job had its perks. 

-

Sael huffed when he was sure he was out sight of the valet. The boy was infuriating. Why Diven had hired him was lost on Sael. His ineptitude greatly outweighed the minuscule merits he had. And it wasn’t just that he was inept. He was rude, too. No doubt he was snickering right now. Sael had been waiting for a chance to speak up about him to either Diven or his brother, but that chance had never come. First, he’d had to continue his search in the study with Geilin, and then that conversation with his father. Perhaps it wasn’t just Torment Sael Day. It was Torment Sael Week. 

He was last to arrive in the dining hall, of course. His father gave him a brief, condescending stare, but said nothing. By the time the meal arrived, Sael wasn’t even hungry anymore. He was just about to take a precautionary bite when his father caught the attention of everyone in the room. 

“I have been honored by a request by the Emperor to send my son, Sael dönz Menaük, to the capital.” He said it spitefully, as if the words were an astringent medicine he’d been forced to swallow. “He will study in the great libraries and under the tutorship of the Emperor’s personal vönan. May he have a safe journey and,” his father paused for a second, “a safe return.” 

The table toasted, wishing him a safe return. Although the atmosphere was jovial, Sael could feel the immense dread of the situation. He knew his brother could, too. Seffni kept giving him cautionary looks from across the table. A frown had etched its way on to his face, so contrary to the grin that usually infected half the room on nights like this one. 

The men of the party moved into a parlor after dinner concluded. Sael would have preferred to proceed straight back to his room but his father’s glare had stopped him in his tracks. Wine was served and Sael gratefully accepted it. 

He caught a glimpse of the servant who had given him the glass and knew it was his chance.

“Wait, Diven!” 

The butler turned to face him. “Yes, Your Highness.” 

“About my new valet. He’s…” What had he been planning to say? He doubted shouting obscenities about the boy would go down well with his father in the room. “… a bit unorthodox, isn’t he? Is he truly from gü-Khemed?” 

Diven nodded. “The references check out, but that was not the reason I hired him.”

“It wasn’t?” 

“No, Your Highness. You see, it was that young man and an acquaintance of his who brought Jekh back to the castle.” 

“What was Jekh doing outside the castle?” 

“He told me he was searching for you, Your Highness.” 

Sael felt his stomach drop. If he hadn’t been hiding that morning, would Jekh had gotten into that terrible accident? Now Sael saw the situation for what it truly was: he had brought it entirely on himself. 

“I see.” 

“As I was saying, the young man entered the castle and agreed to be questioned by the guards, but his acquaintance did not. When your current valet was offered a large sum of coin for his assistance, he refused it, and said the one who should be paid was his acquaintance, a miller’s son. He then insisted that I hire him, no doubt aware that we would be down a valet. He was quite persistent and I had little reason to refuse him.” 

Sael let the story roll around his mind. It was hardly surprising that Koreh’s stubbornness had earned him a job, but the realization that Koreh was actually a decent person underneath it all… that was what really had astonished Sael. 

“Thank you for telling me this, Diven.” 

“Can I offer His Highness anything else?” 

“No, that will be all. Thank you.” 

Diven drifted off and Sael contemplated his new valet. Perhaps Sael was in the wrong here. After all, he’d been venting about losing his magic with anyone unfortunate enough to cross paths with him. He really had been acting insufferable the last couple of days. 

He wasn’t quite sure if he was willing to give Koreh the full benefit of the doubt. He was, after all, a terrible valet. But perhaps a little decent treatment would soften him up. 

-

Koreh now understood his dilemma. When he’d asked to fill Sael’s bath, he’d neglected to ask what time he’d be back in the room. It had now been three hours and no trace of Sael had walked through those doors. 

He stretched, pacing around the room. At least he’d managed to keep the fire well-stocked to ward off the Spring chill. A seat next to the raging hearth looked inviting and he had no reservations about plopping down on it. 

The door clicked open and shut so quickly, Koreh barely had any time to get up. He’d still neglected to fill the bath and was expecting a bitter Sael to give him a death glare, but it wasn’t Sael who had come in. An old man stood in his place, the eye of Atnu glimmering on his bald head. 

“No, no, no need to get up.” He gesticulated with his hands. “I’ve only just come for a little chat.” 

Koreh recognized this man as Geilin, Sael’s tutor. He’d been told Sael and this vönan were especially close and that he was to treat him with as much respect as he treated Sael. Apparently, Geilin had different ideas about respect, as did Koreh. He joined him by the fire and struck up a conversation. 

“So your Sael’s new valet. Koreh, is it?” 

“Yes…. Sir.” Koreh should have felt intimidated by this vönan. After all, he worshiped the mortal enemies of the Taaweh, the Stronni. But there was something about him that was so pleasant. He seemed to generate no ill will at all. 

“And I take it you’ve heard the news about Sael?” 

“He’s been asked to go to gü-Khemed to study magic.” 

“Yes,” Geilin nodded, “and you and I are to accompany him.” 

“I expected as much.” 

Geilin leaned back in his chair and looked into the fire. “How lucky Sael has a valet with intimate knowledge about the capital.” He nodded again, as if he were talking more to himself. “How very lucky indeed.” 

For half a breath, Koreh thought the vönan had figured him out. 

“You know what this means, don’t you?” Geilin looked him dead in the eye. 

Koreh shook his head. He had no idea what this was supposed to mean. 

“I know you haven’t known him for very long, but is Sael important to you?” 

“Yes, of course.” He said it with a sense of conviction. It wasn’t just that the Taaweh had led Koreh to him. He was beginning to grow interested in Sael. He was more than just the boy from the dream. 

“Good.” Geilin seemed to acknowledge the confidence in his voice. “You’ll need to remember that in the days ahead.” 

“I… shall?” Koreh felt like he was agreeing to something, only he didn’t know what it was. He knew the capital was a dangerous place, but that was for a peasant. A royal guard wouldn’t dare touch Sael. 

Or would he? 

He remembered the vek’s words. Gods have pity on my son. If the vek was worried, shouldn’t Koreh be too? 

“Sael, he’s not really going to gü-Khemed to study magic, is he?” 

“That’s what the Emperor would have us believe, but even an ignorant fool could see through it. No, Sael is going to the capital so that the Emperor can use him as leverage against the Vek of Worlen.” 

“That’s terrible! Why would the vek agree to such a thing?” 

Geilin was once again staring out into the fire. “I suspect the vek’s hands are tied, as are ours.” The old man rose from the seat. It seemed as if the conversation had drained him. “Whatever the case,” he went on, “we must see to it that we protect Sael. Can I trust you with this task?” 

“Of course!” 

“Very good. I’ve been informed we’ll be leaving before dawn.” 

“Before dawn?” Koreh gaped. He hadn’t been informed about this. But then again, what did he have to pack? 

“Yes, best we get some sleep.” 

The old man began to shuffle out. It was only then that Koreh heard, “but I fear we won’t be able to protect him from everything.” 

Koreh sat back for a few moments after Geilin left. His words vaguely echoed the Taaweh’s. Now it was clear who he was meant to protect Sael from—the Emperor, or at least, the Emperor’s men. But both had also hinted the protecting him from harm would not be possible. 

He rose and drew the bath to rid the thoughts from his mind. The steaming water trickled in at a constant rhythm and it reminded Koreh of the streams he used to hunt by in the forests of the West. 

If not for his training as a hunter, he might not have noticed Sael come in. 

“I see you’ve made some improvements with that.” Sael’s voice was gentle and soft. He couldn’t hide the hint of sarcasm in his voice, but it seemed like he was at least trying this time. 

“I’m a quick learner.” Koreh turned the spigot and the water ceased. It was only then that he got a good look at Sael. He wasn’t smiling, but his face wasn’t contorted in a nasty sneer either. His hands started to fidget with the buttons on his coat, and Koreh took it as a hint that he’d been staring too long. 

“Here, let me help you with that.” 

This time Sael allowed him to undress his breeches as well. It was an involved process, as Sael’s boots and stockings also needed to come off, but Koreh secretly loved every moment of it. It was only for a moment, however. When Koreh made to untie the drawstring of his undergarments, Sael stopped him. 

“That’s enough, thank you.” Sael left Koreh where he stood and spread the screen around the tub. 

“Could you fetch me a nightshirt, please?” 

Thank you? 

Please? 

Had something happened to Sael in the three hours he’d been gone? 

Koreh shook his head and explored Sael’s closet. He heard a splash and a soft sigh from behind the screen and guessed the water temperature was acceptable. 

He wasn’t exactly sure where he should put the newly proffered nightshirt upon returning to the main room. 

“I trust you heard about tomorrow?” Sael’s voice rose from behind the screen. 

“Yeah, I did. And, where did you want the shirt?” 

“You can just hang it on the screen.” 

Koreh approached. Half a dozen voices in his head screamed to look behind it. He’d seen Sael naked before, but that had only been a dream. Was the reality any different? Instead, he gave Sael the privacy he so desperately wanted, swinging the shirt over the top of the screen. He then retreated back to a spot by the fire. 

He heard the water splash again. Perhaps Sael had turned. Koreh could imagine the ends of his curls dampened by the steam and the way his chin rested on the tub’s curved edge. 

“What is gü-Khemed like, Koreh?” This wasn’t the Sael Koreh had met this morning. This was a Sael less than confident about himself and his future. Koreh couldn’t blame him. 

“What would you like to know?” 

“I’ve read about it. At one point, it was the only thing I wanted to read about.” There was a slight chuckle. “But I want to know about it from a local’s perspective.” 

Koreh gulped. He couldn’t tell Sael about all the horrible things that went on in the capital. The plagues, the starvation, the guards’ abuses. But he didn’t want to lie to him either. “It’s just like any big city I suppose. There’s lots of beauty and lots of… unpleasantness.” 

When Sael didn’t say anything, Koreh continued. “But you’ll be staying in the noble quarters, or even the palace itself. It’s really nice there. It’s also a bit warmer than it is here in Harleh.” He only knew about the noble quarters from the days he’d been dumb enough to try to steal from there. That had been his first brush with the guards’ brutality. He’d been about eleven then. 

“I don’t mind the cold.” 

Koreh heard the water churn and a great deal of trickling. Sael had stood up and was starting to dry himself. It was few moments later that Koreh saw the nightshirt disappear. 

Sael walked out from behind the screen, still adjusting the button at the collar. He was as Koreh had guessed. His hair was damp, but not wet, droplets of water falling from the ends of his lightly-colored curls. The nightshirt reached his mid-things, exposing the paleness of his legs. Again, Koreh resisted the urge to slide a hand up his shirt. 

“Thank you, Koreh, that will be all.” 

“Y-yeah.” Koreh almost lost track of himself. He quickly recovered, drowning the images of hands and hair and thighs in his head. “Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight.” Sael inclined his head slightly. Then Koreh’s feet were taking him out of the room and down the hall faster than he realized. He needed to relieve himself immediately and hoped no one noticed the slight pained look on his face or the curious mass pressing against his slacks.


	4. Chapter 4

Sael did not recall how he got there, but he was standing on the balcony of one of the towers of Harleh. Or so he thought. One quick look around confirmed that it wasn’t Harleh. The architecture was given to curves and embellishment, where Harleh’s was dominated by practicality and simplicity. 

But it wasn’t the architecture that caught his eye for long. He stared out, a city spread before him with shining lights of a dozen different colors. These lights, however, failed in comparison to the night sky. Millions of stars were blinking. It was impossibly clear and something about it reminded him of Koreh’s eyes. Sael felt his breath leaving him. 

A noise behind him brought him back to his surroundings. 

“Hello? Is someone there?” Sael called. There was no answer, only darkness and shadows. 

Sael stepped back. Perhaps he should find a way to get down. He probably wasn’t supposed to be up here, anyway. 

He was just turning when a hand grabbed his throat. He struggled, reaching for his sword, which of course, wasn’t there. 

The hand lifted him up with its impossible strength and held him over the balcony. Sael clawed at the fingers. He tried to get a good look at his attacker, but it was too dark. All he could see was the shadowy hand, and the depthless shadows below. 

Then the hand let go and he felt the air rushing past him. His hands flailed, but there was nothing to hold on to. He was falling into featureless darkness. Sael screamed. 

The scream ripped him out of sleep. 

His eyes swept the room in panic, but it appeared there was nothing there but shadows. 

Shadows… When he’d studied as an appretence, he’d learned that shadows were evil. Anything the light of Atnu or Druma didn’t reach was the enemy. But how could that be, Sael had wondered then, when the shadows gave light depth and beauty?

There were no such thoughts in his head right now. He was grateful when a rather groggy Koreh opened his door (without knocking again) and started to lay out a tray of food and clothing. 

Diven came in shortly after Sael had dressed. 

“The carriage is ready, Your Highness. His Grace and His Lordship are waiting to bid you farewell. Master Geilin is also ready.”

“Thank you, Diven. Inform them I’ll be there shortly.” 

After Diven had left, Sael indulged himself in another bite of the scone. This would perhaps be the last meal in Harleh he’d ever eat. Sael was no fool. He knew the Emperor hadn’t called him all the way to gü-Khemed to study magic, or his lack of magic. It was a trap and he was a pawn his father’s and the Emperor’s power play. But what exactly did the Emperor intend to do with him once he reached gü-Khemed? Would he reach gü-Khemed? Or would there be mercenaries on the road waiting in ambush once they were out of sight of Harleh?

Koreh had meanwhile simpered to the door. He looked beyond tired, his blue eyes hidden by drooping eyelids. Sael wondered briefly what could have kept him up all night. 

-

Like his son, the Vek of Worlen did not mind the cold. It was a brisk Spring morning. The wind could be heard whipping through the plains just outside of Harleh Keep. There was little doubt it would aid Sael’s journey Westward, but Worlen wasn’t so sure he wanted Sael reaching the capital any sooner than necessary. 

Seffni sneezed at his side. 

“Surely, you can tolerate this weather, Dekan of Harleh.” 

“Y-yes, Father.” He fumbled for a handkerchief, and, when he couldn’t find one, Tanum handed him hers. 

“I just don’t understand it, Father.” Seffni said after he’d wiped his nose. 

“What is so hard to understand?” 

“Why are you putting Sael in danger?” 

Ah, there it was. Finally. Worlen had already weighed the risks of telling his son the real reason for his brother’s journey. 

“I had you read the reports of plague in the villages, didn’t I?” 

“Yes, and it’s awful. Our ömem would never be able to contain it if it broke out in a city.” He paused for a moment. “But what does this have to do with Sael?” 

Worlen wasted no time skirting around the issue. “The Emperor has promised enough phials of the cure to safeguard a city in exchange for your brother’s invitation.” 

“What? This is madness!” Seffni gave his father a stern look, but it seemed to falter under Worlen’s gaze. 

“And what would you have decided in my position, Dekan of Harleh?” 

Seffni’s lower lip trembled. At his side, Tanum had developed a look of consternation. 

“It would seem indecent to appear argumentative at a time like this,” she said in her soft but strong voice. “Sael will be here shortly.” 

And so he was. No sooner had she uttered the words than Sael and his valet appeared. 

Sael approached each one of them in turn, offering his farewells. He held Tanum’s hands and kissed her fingers. Strands of her hair had escaped the braids and now tousled in the wind. She returned Sael’s kiss with one of her own. Worlen could see she was upset, although she wouldn’t cry here. 

Seffni, however, was starting to sob. Sael threw his arms around him and the two held each other for a moment. “Come back as soon as you can,” Seffni urged, although Sael didn’t nod his head in agreement. 

Then it was Worlen’s turn. Sael stared at him for a time, as if expecting him to speak first. When he said nothing, Sael spoke up. “Farewell, Father.” 

“May the Gods’ mercy go with you.” 

And then Sael was in carriage and the carriage was plodding down the streets of Harleh. Worlen frowned. The black night had given way to a sullen blue dawn. Had he finally let the Emperor win? 

No. 

Victory was in Sael’s hands now. But so was defeat. 

-

Geilin explained it might take ten days to make the journey from Harleh to gü-Khemed. Of course, the springtime brought with it unpredictable storms that might delay their journey by a few days. 

Koreh lent back in the plush pillows of the carriage and tried to sleep. He’d been in awe when he’d been expected to travel with Sael. In the carriage with Sael. 

“But of course,” Diven explained, “you are His Highness’ valet, are you not?” 

Koreh couldn’t complain about the posh journey, although he could have employed quicker means of traveling to gü-Khemed. Still, he didn’t want to alert his new acquaintances of his ability to travel underground just yet. 

Besides, he needed sleep. Images of Sael had assaulted him all night long and he’d spent himself silly by the time sleep took over. 

Sael had also chosen to roll on his side. Koreh couldn’t see his face, and that was just as well. Geilin, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying the view from an open window. 

He wasn’t sure how long it was before the carriage rolled to a halt. Atnu’s rays were just starting to breech the landscape. Geilin had left the carriage, no doubt in order to perform Penent. Sael stayed inside. He looked sleepy, but that might have been due to the morose look in his eyes. 

“You’re not hungry, are you?” Koreh asked. 

“No.” Sael shook his head. 

They were traveling with a cartload of Sael’s belongings and another wagon of supplies. A host of guards were also flanking them. Why did nobles always have to announce their riches on the road? Weren’t they fearful of thieves? But then, that was what the guards were for. 

The entire rest of the morning was spent in the carriage. They stopped at midday for Cabbon and a light lunch. Sael’s appetite still hadn’t returned by the time they crawled back into the carriage. 

“Is something troubling you, little lord?” Koreh didn’t like going to gü-Khemed any more than Sael did, but at least he wasn’t moping about it. 

“I’m fine.” That was obviously a lie, but Koreh doubted Sael would tell him much more if he pried. It seemed Sael and Geilin had brought a vast assortment of books and other documents for their journey. Koreh, of course, had nothing to keep himself occupied with. He couldn’t even peak at what Sael was reading. He could barely read. 

The second day of the journey was comparable to the first one. Geilin read and performed his rituals. Sael read and hardly ate. Koreh didn’t read and hardly had anything to do at all. 

“We should be arriving at Mivikh soon.” Geilin stared into the dinner fire. 

“Mikivuh?” Koreh mumbled as he chewed on a piece of venison jerky. 

“Yes. It’s a small fishing town. We’ll not book passage across the lake, however. Ghustat are known to roam in it. Nasty creatures!” 

Mivikh… Ghusat… Koreh wasn’t particularly interested in either. He eyed Sael from across the fire. He’d been moody and silent the entire day. 

“I… I’ll be back.” Koreh took off. It was a dark night with plenty of cloud cover and he’d been wondering if the Taaweh would appear before him again. They hadn’t since that time in the castle courtyard. It was unusual to go a week or even a fortnight without speaking to them, but Koreh was beginning to worry if he was on the right track or not. Could following a morose noble boy halfway around the country be his destiny? Koreh snorted. He doubted it. 

Koreh stopped just as he lost view of the campfire. 

They were just at the edge of a forest. The carriage had trundled terribly today because of the roots and stones in the path and Koreh was surprised he hadn’t gotten sick from it. 

Just then, something burst from the darkness. Koreh hadn’t been expecting the Taaweh to appear so suddenly, but another close look revealed the thing to be a rabbit. It scurried past him and bounded into the shadows once more. 

But what had it been running from? He followed the direction the rabbit had come from and found himself on the cusp of a hill. A fire blazed about a quarter of a league away with a group of men huddled around it. Something about the scene rankled Koreh’s nerves. It wasn’t unusual to see travelers on a road like this, but there was just something… odd about them. Koreh walked quietly back to his party and related what he found. 

“Well, like you said, it wouldn’t be unusual to encounter fellow travelers. We will have to keep an eye out, however. We’ll be near Old Mat’zovya in a matter of days.” 

The conversation around the fire soon fizzled to nothing. Koreh was tired of sitting in the carriage, so he volunteered to keep watch and slept outside. 

Like so many times before, he didn’t remember falling asleep by the time he started dreaming. 

He was in a room. It was more exquisite than anything he’d seen in Harleh, but he’d never been impressed by wasteful extravagance. It was day and light filled the room. The curtains blew from a light breeze. Then he noticed Sael was there with him. He was crying. 

What’s wrong now? He tried to ask, but his voice didn’t make a sound. 

Sael continued to cry, his shoulders shuddering at each sob. 

Poor Sael, Koreh thought. He wanted to comfort him, but he didn’t know how to interact with him. Every attempt he made to touch the boy was ignored. Or not felt.

“Iinyeh Koreh,” a Taaweh greeted him. He realized the Taaweh was standing at his side, although he could not recall for how long. “You will be tempted many times to tell him of your powers, but you must not until it is time.” 

“When will I know?” 

The Taaweh smiled from beneath her cowl. “You will know.” 

It was near dawn when Koreh woke. He yawned, stretching and getting the blood back into his cold arms and legs. He hadn’t realized a few nights on a cot would destroy his tolerance for sleeping outdoors. Then, he hunkered down and started to prepare breakfast for himself. 

Atnu rose as Koreh slurped down the gruel he’d made for himself. Something was off about today, but he could quite place it. 

It wasn’t until Geilin emerged from the carriage, looking more weary than Koreh had ever seen him, that he realized what it was. 

“Sael has come down with a fever.” 

-

The carriage rolled down the road at a faster pace than usual as Koreh tried to keep the cloth on Sael’s head steady. Mivikh was at most a few hours away, but it seemed like torture to have to endure the confines of the warm carriage. This Spring morning was warm and Sael’s head was warm and the two together made Koreh sweat like a pig. He’d been tempted many times to apply the Taaweh healing spell, but it was too risky with Geilin watching his every move. 

“How long has he been like this?” 

“I discovered him like this when I woke for Pennant this morning, but I suspect he’s been fighting this sickness for a couple of days.” 

Sael looked ragged. His skin was clammy and pale and his lank hair was plastered to his forehead. Koreh eyed the empty phial next to him. 

“You don’t have any stronger medicine than this?” 

Geilin shook his head. “Unfortunately, that’s the strongest draught this side of gü-Khemed. Ömem magic is powerful, but it’s not a cure-all.” 

Definitely not, Koreh almost said. When they’d set out on the journey, sickness had been the last thing on Koreh’s mind. 

“Idiot,” he grumbled, “why’d you have to get yourself sick for?” 

“It’s a simple fact that animals hide their illnesses and injuries until the very last minute.” Geilin was leaning back in his chair. He’d been the one caring for Sael for the last hour, but Koreh had stepped in when he realized how much it was straining the man. “It’s the same for people in Sael’s position. He was raised to never show weakness.” 

Stupid, stupid Sael. Koreh almost cursed under his breath. 

By the time they made it to Mivikh it was nearing midday. Mikivh was not a city by any means, but rather a collection of houses spread out on the lakeshore. It reeked of fish, and if Sael had been conscious, he would have made an offhanded comment about the place. 

The carriage rushed to the inn, which was little more than a squalid, two-story building. Geilin when off to find an ömem. Koreh could have used the Taaweh magic then, but guards remained stationed at Sael’s bedside. 

Another hour went by. 

Sael’s breathing was labored. Koreh and Geilin had stripped him down to nothing but his undergarments, but he was still drenched in sweat. Koreh remembered this helpless feeling. He’d watched his whole family die of the plague, and had almost died of it himself. What Sael had wasn’t the plague, but it was definitely something serious. 

The ömem entered the room just as Koreh was considering taking off Sael’s undershirt as well. 

“One-hundred coins,” she said. She was a young woman, perhaps in her mid-twenties. She wore no accessories and a plain dress that made her body look like as flat as a board. 

“You said ten.” Geilin didn’t seem in the mood to argue. If anything, there was mere curiosity in his voice and the slightest hint of panic. 

“One-hundred. He’s rich.” 

“Very well.” Geilin retrieved his coin purse and handed her the payment. She slipped the coins into a hidden pocket in her dress and then sat on a stood next to Sael’s bed. 

“You,” she eyed Koreh cautiously, “you should leave.” 

Koreh didn’t feel like arguing either. He was tired of feeling stuffy. Geilin watched him walk right out. If he had any protests, he didn’t make them known. 

-

Tbe eye of Atnu had set by the time Sael woke. The room was lit by a single sconce hanging on the opposite wall, so he had to squint to make out the objects in the darkness. 

“Master Geilin?” He called into the darkness. 

“I’m right here, Sael.” 

“What happened?” He only now noticed how raspy and weak his voice sounded. “Why aren’t we in the carriage?” 

“You came down with a fever this morning. We’re in Mivikh now.”

“Oh…” He remembered the blazing feeling of his forehead and the fitfulness when he’d tried to sleep last night. It was amazing how much time he’d lost. 

“Here, you should drink this.” Sael tried to sit up. Even that was excruciating. 

“It’s not that drink you made the other day, is it?” 

“No, it’s water.” A smile crept on Geilin’s face. 

Sael’s head was starting to clear. 

“I’ve cost us about a day’s traveling, haven’t I?” 

“The ömem suggested you stay in bed for tomorrow, too, so it’s technically two days.” 

Sael rolled his eyes. 

“Might I suggest you start resting now? If you’re moderately recovered by tomorrow, we may be able to make an early start.” 

“All right, Master.” Sael set the cup down and was just about to crawl under the covers again when a thought crossed his mind. “Where’s Koreh?” 

“Oh you know, out and about.” 

Sael felt a slight tinge of jealousy at these words, but he wasn’t sure why. Koreh was an adult and free to do what he wanted. Of course, he was also his valet, and Sael thought it irresponsible of him to just leave. 

He was about to say something about this when the door opened and Koreh slipped in. 

“So you’re finally awake.” 

Sael didn’t think he had the energy to be cross with him. 

“Here,” Koreh said as he slammed something into Sael’s hands. 

“What’s this?” 

“Fish stew.” Sael gave him a withering look. “It’s good. Trust me. And besides, you need to eat and regain your strength, little lord.” 

Sael turned to Geilin, but the old man simply nodded as if he agreed. He lifted a hesitant spoon and began eating. The vegetables and spices were perfect, but the chunks of fish didn’t taste like fish at all. Regardless, he drained it spoonful by heaping spoonful. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. It was as if he hadn’t eaten in days. 

“What kind of fish was that?” he asked when he returned the bowl back to Koreh. 

“It’s watchamacallit. A ghusat?” 

Sael might have spit the stew out if he’d still been eating it. 

“Ghusat? That’s not fish, that’s a snake.” 

“Oh,” Koreh said, as if he hadn’t just fed a nobleman snake. “No wonder I liked it.” 

Sael was feeling much better in the morning. He didn’t want to think twice that the ghusat stew had something to do with it. After another hearty meal (which he made sure was fish), they set out. They wouldn’t be stopping in Mat’zovya, as it was too far out of the way, and so they were sure to stock up supplies before they left Mivikh had been a must. Koreh insisted on more healing draughts although Sael insisted that he felt fine. 

The next couple of days were uneventful, but toward the afternoon, Sael heard rumbling above and the the tell-tale sound of falling rain. They retreated under a grove of trees. 

“I’ve talked to the coachman,” Geilin said as he returned inside the carriage, “he says there’s a risk of the carriages getting stuck in the mud. Seems like we’re stuck here too.” 

Sael simply nodded. 

Koreh didn’t seem too upset about the matter. He said he was going off for a walk. 

“Don’t go too far to the North,” Geilin warned. “Old Mat’zovya is near here and it’s little more than a thieve’s den.” 

The rain didn’t let up until that night and by then it was too dark and muddy to travel. Sael couldn’t say he was restless to see the Emperor, they’d already lost a day with his sickness. 

Sael hopped off the carriage. All he’d done was drink tea all day and his bladder was to the point of bursting. He wandered off a little from the camp, careful not to step into the mud. The Eye of Druma was bright in the sky and it wasn’t hard to see anything. Just as he finished, he heard a branch crack somewhere near. Was it a guard coming to check on him? 

“Hold on a minute, please.” Sael tied up his breeches as quickly as he could. That’s when he noticed the glimmer of steel heading towards him. 

Sael was quick to unsheathe his sword. 

“Announce yourself!” A man emerged from the shadows. He wasn’t one of Sael’s guards. He was dressed in an odd assortment of rags and an expensive looking traveler’s cloak. 

“What do you want?” He shouted. The man didn’t seem interested in answering the question. 

He lunged at Sael, who parried it quickly. “You’re not very good,” he said. “I’ll give you one more chance to tell me who you are before I cut you down.” 

This time the man brought his sword above him. He was taller than Sael and could brought split him in half, but Sael wasn't one to be frightened of stronger opponents. Their swords rang out in the darkness as Sael deflected the attack. It was strenuous and gravity was against him, but he thought he might be able to hold for a few more moments and give himself an opening. 

Only, he thought. He felt something touch the exposed skin at his throat and an arm wrapped around his belly. “I’d drop that sword if I were you.” Sael might have argued, but he was out of options. As soon as he dropped his sword, however, he screamed. 

“Help! Guards!” 

This earned him a knock to the head and his eyes flooded with darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

Koreh hadn’t been the only ones to hear the screams. He rushed there just in time to see a band of thieves on horseback make off with Sael. As many guards as they could spare followed them, but Koreh doubted they’d catch up in time. 

“That idiot,” he muttered under his breath. If it wasn’t a fever, he was getting kidnapped. Geilin had been informed, of course, but one vönan against a band of thieves, and possibly an ömem, weren’t the best odds.

He waited for the cloud cover and then disappeared into the ground. The earth closed in around him as he moved and he had to keep reminding himself that he didn’t need to breathe. What was even stranger, however, was that he knew exactly where Sael was. It wasn’t as if he could see Sael, he just had a feeling that Sael would be directly above him in 3, 2, 1… 

He burst up from the ground. The thieves were tying up their horses to decrepit-looking post. In fact, everything looked decrepit here. The buildings, those that had not fallen apart, were perhaps held up by one or two walls. The other walls were made up of anything from cloth to branches and twigs to dried mud. It reminded Koreh of the slums in the capital. He’d lived like this once, although here seemed even more joyless. 

Koreh followed the thieves, making sure to keep out of sight. He peeked through a hole in one of the walls. There he found that they had tied Sael up and had literally dropped him off to the side of a room. He knew he had little time before they’d start to check up on him. The ground closed around him again and seconds later Koreh reappeared in the house. The thieves didn’t seem all that interested in keeping their eyes on Sael once they’d captured him. Koreh had an easy time grabbing hold of him and dropping through the ground once again. 

He emerged sometime later under a copse of trees, about a quarter of a league from the campsite. He thought he’d wait out the night here rather than risk trying to explain how he’d been able to rescue Sael so easily. 

In the meantime, he inspected Sael and untied the ropes that bound him. Sael appeared to be fine, although there was an ugly bruise on his head. The thieves had also stolen his coat and sword. Koreh took off his own coat and wrapped it around the both of them. He knew Sael wouldn’t be too found of sleeping on the ground, but he’d have to deal with it for now.   
Koreh looked at the boy once more and discovered that he was no longer sleeping. 

“H-how long have you been awake?” 

“I just woke up.” He seemed disoriented. The Eye of Druma had come out again and Koreh observed that Sael was trying to make sense of his surroundings. 

“What… happened?” 

Koreh made up a story of sneaking him out while the thieves weren’t looking. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but he needed to leave out the Taaweh magic involved. 

Sael gave him a scrutinizing look. 

“You…. you’re not a valet, are you?” 

Now was as good a time as ever to tell the truth, or at least part of it. “No, I’m not.” 

“I knew it.” Sael said it as if he were pleased with himself, but then a murky expression crept on his face. “If you’re not a valet, then what are you?” 

“I was asked to protect you.” He knew he was skirting deadly close to the truth. 

“Oh.” Sael said, rolling over. “Did Father hire you? Are you some kind of samöt or something? When we get to the capital, are you going to kill the emperor?” 

No, no and no. “I’m not samöt, but I was… hired…. to protect you. I’m not going to kill the Emperor unless…” Unless he tries to harm you, which he likely will.

“Figures….” He seemed upset. 

“I’m sorry for lying to you.” 

“You had to. It’s not your fault.” 

Koreh breathed a sigh of relief. It didn’t seem like Sael was mad at him, just disappointed.

“If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t want to lie to you.” I still don’t. 

Sael turned to face him. His face seemed determined. Resolved. 

“No, that doesn’t make me feel any better.” 

Koreh’s mouth gaped. But he didn’t have time to close it before Sael crept in closer and said, “but this will.” 

Sael’s lips met his own, and because his mouth was still open, their tongues did too. Sael’s tongue flitted curiously around his and it was only when Koreh felt the saliva escaping his mouth that they both broke away. 

Koreh might not have believed what happened, but he remembered the dream and Sael in his arms. Everything was starting to make sense. It wasn’t just the Taaweh and Geilin and the vek who wanted Koreh to protect Sael. Koreh wanted to protect him, too. 

“I.. I’m sorry…” Sael was drifting away from him, to the very edge of where the cloak still covered him. 

Koreh grabbed his wrist. “Don’t be. It felt good.” 

“If you say so.” But a smile was now on his face. He closed his eyes and it seemed like he was completely safe. 

When he was sure Sael had fallen asleep, Koreh rolled on to his back and looked up at the stars. His hand was still on Sael’s wrist and he wanted to keep it that way for a little while longer.

-

Sael hadn’t told the truth. He’d been awake long before Koreh had pulled him under the grove of trees. He’d been awake ever since getting plopped down in the thieves’ den. He’d been planning an escape route when Koreh had come. And then they were moving, but not in any way Sael thought possible to move. He’d been underground for what felt like a few seconds, but they’d moved so far. The only reason Sael hadn’t screamed when they’d risen up was because he thought he’d been dreaming. 

But kissing Koreh had felt too real to be a dream. 

He’d done it, hadn’t he? He’d kissed him. He’d wanted to, at least since before Koreh had opened his mouth. But after that, Sael had still wanted to. As if it had just made sense to kiss Koreh. 

When Koreh had said he wasn’t actually a valet, Sael wasn’t taken too aback. He’d thought something was off with Koreh’s training. And maybe he wasn’t a samöt either, but he was something, and that something was what Sael had fallen for. 

Sael fell asleep with sweet dreams soon after the kiss. He might have had sweet dreams, but Koreh had nudged his shoulder and woken him not too long after. 

“Hey, we should be getting back to camp.” 

Sael sighed but didn’t complain. There was little reason to have the guards try to rescue someone who no longer needed rescuing. When they reached camp, Koreh told his story to the guards, who eventually rounded up the others. Master Geilin had eyed the two of them curiously through the whole exchange, but he had said nothing, which Sael might have thought was odd. Usually he had keen observation to bestow, even if it was disguised as a clever joke. He’d wanted to sleep next to Koreh when they alighted the carriage, but something stopped him. He wasn’t sure what it was. Embarrassment? Honor? Master Geilin? Instead, he’d rolled up around a cushion and fell asleep soundly.

The next few days of the journey were without incident. Although Sael was grateful that there hadn’t been any threats to his life, he found himself dreadfully bored. And anxious. 

He hadn’t had a moment alone with Koreh since the kiss they’d had that night. The most he could do now was sneak a few stares and comment on the weather every now and then. 

“We’re making remarkable pace,” Master Geilin commented on the third day out from Old Mat’zovya. “At this rate, we’ll arrive in the capital in a matter of days.” 

“The Emperor will be pleased,” Sael said offhandedly. He hadn’t forgotten about the danger that awaited him in the Royal Court. Perhaps he would even fair better remaining on the road. 

“Yes, I daresay he will be.” Geilin pursed his lips. They stopped for lunch and Cabbon near a small pond along the roadside. Sael enjoyed the fresh air outside of the carriage and the feeling of new grass yielding under his feet. 

The weather was warm, so much in fact that Sael felt like shedding his coat. He almost did when he saw a flash of someone running to the water. 

It was Koreh. Completely naked. Sael turned scarlet. 

“Just what are you doing?” he demanded. 

Koreh gave him one look. “This.” Then he jumped into the water. Water sprayed all around, most notably on Sael’s coat. 

“Whoo!” Koreh yipped as he broke the surface. “You should come in. The water’s fantastic!” 

“Absolutley not!” Jumping in a pond naked with Koreh seemed like an absolutely heinous request. 

“What’s wrong, little lord? Can’t swim?” 

“I can too swim.” Just not very well. 

“Well, you’re missing out.” Koreh swam on his back. He truly seemed like he was enjoying the whole thing. From this angle, Sael was witness to every bit of Koreh there was to be seen. 

“Please! If you must swim, could you at least be modest about it?” 

Koreh shook his head. “It’s not anything anyone here hasn’t seen before.” 

Sael looked around. For the most part, the guards looked more interested in joining Koreh than staring at him. Even Geilin seemed to be staring at the water with a certain enthusiasm. It was only Sael who was staring at Koreh’s more intimate bits. 

“Just, ugh!” Sael flung around and made a show of covering his eyes. It was settled. He wouldn’t turn around until Koreh was completely dressed. 

“Oh, you should have jumped in, it was so refreshing.” Koreh was now relaxing on the grass, warming himself on the shore. He’d forgone his liveries and instead had pulled out a shirt and breeches from somewhere.

“Where’d you get those?” Sael asked. The clothes didn’t look like they were exceptionally made, but they were decent, and much more decent than going about naked. 

“Mivikh.” 

“You didn’t steal them did you?” Sael spoke a little softer this time. He didn’t want the guards to hear. 

“Nah, I bought them with the money I was paid to be your valet.” 

Sael played with a grass blade. “But you have stolen before.” 

Koreh casual mood instantly shifted to something more somber. “When I had to survive, I did.” 

For a brief moment, Sael entertained notions of running away with Koreh. It would be so easy. He could just tell Koreh to disappear into the ground again and in an instant they could be somewhere different. They’d never have to go to gü-Khemed and they could live happy and free. 

Sael shook his head. That would never work. Father was counting on him, and if he disappeared now, he would just be entertaining all of the vek’s worst suspicions of his second son. He knew he might die in gü-Khemed, and if he did, he would die with honor. 

“See to it that you change back into your liveries before we reach gü-Khemed,” Sael said as he got up. “It’s important you maintain your guise as a valet so that you don’t stick out.” 

No doubt the Emperor would strip him of his guard the second he entered the royal court. But a valet might not be much of a threat in the Emperor’s eyes, and Sael needed every advantage he could get. 

“I will.” Perhaps the reason Koreh had changed was because he was now leaning halfway in the mud. A stem of grass seeds hung lazily in his mouth. He looked the picture of a country farmer taking a break at midday. Sael smiled to himself. Bring on the Emperor. He was ready now. 

-

The last town before gü-Khemed was Denök. Koreh had been there a few times, mostly just to find odd-work, but he disliked the place. Many of the homes were in disrepair and unlike Mivikh, they had no tradition of turning mediocre meals into great ones. 

Once Sael was settled in at the inn, Koreh ordered himself some ale. If the town was ever to name this particular version of ale, Horse Piss might be a good candidate for it. 

“You’re traveling with the nobleman, I take it?” the barkeeper, who was also the innkeeper, asked. 

Koreh gave a brief nod. He’d been forced to change back into his liveries (for proprieties sake! Sael had said). He stuck out like a bad hangnail in this place, but then again, so did the whole entourage. 

“He comes from the East, don’t he, this nobleman of yours?” 

“Harleh.” 

“All the way from Harleh?” The barkeeper whistled. “That’s some journey, although I can’t say I don’t see your lot every once in a while.” 

“Easterners or nobles?” 

“Both. They all crawl to this inn with horrible stories of demen and ten’nak. Awful stuff.” His expression soured. 

Koreh had heard of demen before. They were foul creatures, composed of different parts of beast and man and smelled of rotting flesh. But the other… 

“What’s a ten’nak?” 

The barkeeper shook his head and began to wipe the bar with a filthy looking rag. “Best you never run into one. Creates illusions, it does, and sucks your energy dry.” 

Koreh’s skin crawled. No wonder the empire was so fragmented between East and West. Nightmarish creatures and thieves roamed the between them. 

He thanked the man for the drink and headed upstairs. Sael was alone in the room, which Koreh found odd enough, but his attention was soon drawn to the tub between the two beds. 

“I didn’t think they would, but they actually had one. Master Geilin heated it up for me.” Now that Koreh looked closer, the water was steaming. 

Sael smiled at him brightly. “I can’t look too disheveled in front of the Emperor, can I?” He was struggling with a button on his coat. 

“Here,” Koreh said, “allow me.” 

Koreh removed Sael’s breeches and boots. He’d only done it once before, but it already felt like second nature. He peeled off Sael’s coat last. Once again, the undergarment exposed a vast amount of Sael’s shoulder’s. The skin was immaculate here, the dust of the road hadn’t touched it. Koreh pressed small kisses into that skin and worked his way up to Sael’s neck. He felt Sael’s body shiver and heard the tiny gasps that escaped his lips. Everything in his head told Koreh to rip the rest of Sael’s clothing off of him right then and there, but he took it slowly. Gently. One of his hands reached up under Sael’s shirt and began to trace a straight line from his stomach to his chest. 

His lips were still on Sael’s neck when he heard the slight moan. Sael’s heart was beating very fast, he could feel it through his fingertips. Koreh removed his hand and lifted the drawstring. 

The break was instantaneous. Sael caught his wrist and broke away from the touch. “N-no.” Sael said in a hoarse voice. “I don’t want it to be here.” 

Koreh could hear his heart beating in his ears. He couldn’t recall wanting to touch anyone as much as he wanted to touch Sael at that moment. But Sael was done, Koreh knew he must be too. 

“Do you want me to leave?” Koreh asked. Sael hadn’t asked him to leave before, but there was no screen in this room. 

“No, stay.” 

Sael climbed into the tub and sat in it with his undergarments still on. His thin shirt stuck to his skin and revealed pinkness of his nipples. 

“Could you fetch the towel on the table there?” 

Koreh didn’t want to take his eyes off him, but he obeyed. The towels were much cleaner than what the barkeeper had used to wipe his counter with. Sael must have brought them from Harleh. 

“Dip it in the bath.” Koreh did as instructed and squeezed the towel when he lifted it up again. 

“Well,” Sael said. His green eyes betrayed his bashfulness. “What do you want to clean first?” 

There were a whole lot of things Koreh wanted to clean first, but not with the towel. Instead, he started on Sael’s face, wiping away the smudges of dirt that accumulated around his cheeks and neck. Sael wasn’t that filthy, but as each speck of dirt was wiped away, his skin became lighter, almost shining. Koreh retrieved a bucket and worked on Sael’s hair next. 

“You nobles use something for your hair, don’t you?” 

Sael nodded and pointed to the table where Koreh had found the towel. He seemed too relaxed to even speak now. 

Koreh worked his fingers slowly through Sael’s hair. He’d made quite a bunch of suds by the time Sael dunk his head underneath the water. 

“That was nice,” Sael said as the water dripped from his hair and down his chin and neck. “Thank you for that.” 

Koreh rose. He’d give Sael the privacy he wanted. After all, it seemed like his part was done. 

“Not a problem, little lord.” 

“Sael.” 

“Hm?” 

“Call me Sael.” 

“Sael.” Koreh let it linger on his tongue. A name had never tasted sweeter.


	6. Chapter 6

They set out after Geilin performed Penent the next day. By now, Koreh had grown tired of watching the ritual, but he supposed having a fully-charged vönan was a good idea on the trek to gü-Khemed and through its streets.

As it had been for the last few days, the journey was peaceful. No thieves tried to ransack them and no sudden illnesses impeded their journey. In the late afternoon, gü-Khemed’s towers could be seen from the distance. Koreh had seen it most of his life, but the sight took Sael’s breath away. 

“That’s gü-Khemed? It’s huge.” 

Four Harlehs could fit within the city wall’s and outerdistricts. 

“Yep, that’s it.” Seeing the city brought no fond memories to Koreh. He’d left it voluntarily and had learned to live in the ruins nearby. There, he’d first encountered the Taaweh and learned their strange magic. 

The sun was starting to set when they entered the city gates. Gü-Khemed was a harbor town constructed on the hills that lined the shore. Great spires rose up from behind the walls. In the distance, Koreh could see little black specks of fishing boats returning to the harbor. 

There were several gates that led into the city. The gate they passed through now was one Koreh wasn’t familiar with. His skin pricked when he saw the guards stationed there, but they gave their party no trouble. 

“That’s quite a number of wagons.” He heard Geilin say and followed his gaze from the carriage window. 

A whole line of wagons were queued along the inner wall near the gate. Just as they entered, the wagons began to move. Geilin gave the spectacle an unnerving glance, but said nothing. Koreh also thought such a huge number of carts would leave the city gates at nightfall, but he doubted there was much he could comment on. 

Meanwhile, Sael’s gaze was affixed to something else entirely. He kept fidgeting with his coat. It was the most elaborate one Koreh had ever seen him wear. Gold thread had been embroider on red and the effect was dazzling to Koreh’s eyes. No doubt Sael would stand out in the royal court. 

“Is a button loose?” Koreh asked. He might not be much of a valet, but he knew how to sew. 

“No, nothing like that.” Sael gave up on the button or thread or whatever it was and stared out the window. The roof tops of the city seemed to be consuming the last rays of the dying light. 

“Master Geilin, shouldn’t we stop here so you can perform Namom?” 

“I should think it rude if we arrive too late in the evening at the royal court. No, I’ll stay up and perform Manduccot.” 

The carriage weaved through the streets. Koreh had no doubt they were in one of the noble quarters. Flowers bloomed on the sandstone walls and occasionally he caught a whiff of Jasmine or Honeysuckle. The people on the streets wore handsome robes or dresses and the shops were clean and inviting. 

“Master, look!” 

Koreh’s attention was torn from the streets and to a large tower that Sael seemed engrossed by. “That’s the academy, isn’t it?” His voice failed to hide his excitement. The building was painted red and it seemed a thousand candles had been lit in its windows and along its sides. 

“Yes,” Geilin nodded. “I studied there when I was a boy.” 

A smile flashed on Sael’s lips. “I must go! I hope I’ll be able to tomorrow.” 

No one said, we’ll see what the Emperor intends to do with us. 

Night had fallen when they finally reached the palace grounds, although darkness hardly seemed to touch the massive building and gardens. Like the academy, the palace was lit up by what looked like tens of thousands of torches. 

The carriage stopped at a large set of steps. Sael disembarked first, followed by Geilin, and finally, Koreh. 

A small party of servants was there to greet them. 

“This way to the audience chamber.” 

Koreh walked as stiffly as he could. The place was filled with statuary and antique furniture. The floors and walls seemed to be cut from a rose colored stone. It was grand and beautiful and intimidating. 

The servant stopped them at a pair of large, ornate doors. Silver and gold gleamed in the firelight. Koreh remembered now: the Emperor’s colors were gold and silver. 

“I shall announce your names to His Majesty, the Emperor, and the members of the royal court. Your valet, Your Highness, must wait outside.” 

Sael flashed Koreh an apologetic look. “Very well.” 

The doors opened and Koreh caught a glimpse of the audience chamber and the man who would decide their fates. 

-

“Announcing His Highness, Sael dönz Menaük, heir to the tondekan of Harleh, and Master Geilin, vönan of the court of Worlen.” 

Sael took a deep breath. From behind him, he heard Geilin chuckle and mutter, “haven’t been in Worlen’s court in years.” 

The first thing that caught Sael’s attention about the audience chamber was not the gaggle of nobles congregating on the sides—their dress spectacular in the glowing light—nor the Emperor himself, whose gold and silver robes proclaimed riches beyond imagining. No, what caught Sael’s attention first the huge skylight that dominated the ceiling. He could see the entire night sky from where he stood if the light hadn’t been so bright in the room. 

He wanted to stare up at it forever, but as it was, he was being led down the hall to be presented to the Emperor. 

His Father had never respected the Emperor’s policies. His disregard for the poor was atrocious and his Father had complained time and time again about the decaying infrastructure and lack of trade that isolated their regions. But Sael had been taught to respect the man himself. He’d been champion of the royal tournament for ten years and his figure still held the thickness of a warrior’s build. A paunch was visible through his robes and his face was rounded by age and heavy feasts, but he was no less threatening than he must have been at his prime. 

“Your Imperial Majesty.” Sael bowed low. “I am honored by your invitation into the royal court. Please make use of me as you will. I am your humble servant.” Even though the words were standard in the courts of gü-Khemed and Worlen, Sael still felt himself sicken as he said them. 

“Welcome, Sael.” The Emperor’s voiced mouth curled. “And Master Geilin. Welcome back to your home.” 

Geilin bowed. “I am most honored, Your Imperial Majesty.” 

His master had managed to keep his cool, and Sael tried his best not to appear as anything less than the Vek of Worlen’s son in front of the Emperor. But it was hard. 

“You shall both be honored here with highest accommodations. I have even assigned one of my Royal Guard to see to your well-being, Sael dönz Menaük.” A man approached from behind the raised platform of the Emperor’s throne. He wore the Emperor’s colors, but there was nothing shining about his expression. 

“That won’t be necessary, Your Imperial Majesty—” Sael began, but the Emperor cut him off quickly. 

“Nonsense! I have already sent your guards home.” The Emperor seemed to shoo Sael’s request away, as if it were only a trifle. “Mendoz will attend to your safety.” 

Mendoz unsheathed his broadsword and knelt in front of Sael. His muscles bulged as he held the sword for Sael’s inspection. 

“You are most kind, Your Majesty.” Sael saw his reflection in the sword and the look of fear in his eyes. 

“The household staff shall attend to your every need.” 

“You have my humblest thanks, Your Majesty.” It was not long after this that the Emperor dismissed everyone from the audience chamber. A grand feast had been laid out in one of the palace’s large dining halls. Sael caught glimpses of the personages who composed the royal court. 

High Lord Chancellor Djalleh sat on the Emperor’s right hand side, no doubt informing His Majesty on the latest developments within the city. It was impossible to hear their words. Sael was seated about halfway down the table, surrounded by various tittering nobles. The differences he had to these people was starting to dawn on him. All the nobles had dark-colored haired, similar to Koreh’s. The men wore robes of exotic, shining colors and the women wore similar fabrics, wrapped around their bodies in complicated and elegant ways. Eastern sensibilities seemed to pale in comparison to Western extravagances. 

Sael was grateful when the meal finally came to an end. The most he’d eaten were the stuffed kikid birds, and even those had seemed too rich after days on the road. Sael departed with the nobles for a parlor room and stayed as long as decorum would allow and no longer. By that time, it was nearing Manduccot anyway and Geilin had seemed to slip away. 

Mendoz led Sael down a colonnade that connected the main palace to its Northern wing. The outer columns of the colonnade sheltered a small but well-kept garden. Vines grew up the palace’s wall and Sael followed the vines to where they reached a balcony. 

Sael’s breath hitched. It was the balcony from his dream. His hand shot up and gingerly touched his throat. Even now, he could feel that hand squeezing around his neck and the darkness crawling all around him. 

“How much farther is it?” Sael asked. He sounded breathless. 

“Not. Far.” The man’s voice was clipped. 

Sael’s eyes drifted to the guard’s hands. They looked strong enough to wrap around his throat and hold him up with one hand. 

He was grateful when Mendoz finally stopped in front of a pair of doors. 

“You are not to leave not to leave this room from an hour after Manduccot to an hour before Penent. Emperor’s orders.” 

Sael wasn’t sure if the order was only applied to him or all of the nobles. The Emperor was known for his suspicions, and no doubt he’d be suspicious of the vek’s son. 

“Master Geilin is performing Manduccot right now. Should I send for him and tell him of this rule?” 

The guard gave him a look. “There is no need for Vönan Geilin to come here. He is housed in the vönan’s quarters of the palace.” 

Koreh was waiting for him when he arrived in his apartment. His shirt was undone.

It was generous, bigger than his room in Harleh and done up more extravagantly than anything he’d ever seen. Like the audience chamber, the main room also had a skylight. No doubt this room had been specially chosen for him. He wouldn’t be able to hide from the ömem’s prying eyes, even here. Thankfully, however, there wasn’t a skylight in the bathroom. It was a room of rose-color sone and the tub was a slab the beautiful rock, complete with a spigot for hot water. 

“I think we could both fit in there,” Koreh whispered slyly. 

“I just want to sleep,” Sael grumbled. 

He walked back out into the main room and noticed that his luggage had been left on the floor, still full of his belongings. Had Jekh been here, those things would have been squarely put away by now. But Sael supposed Koreh would be more useful as against the capital’s fangs than Jekh would would have been. 

The other rooms yielded similar decoration. Only one room off to the side did not contain the same lavish attention to detail. 

“Guess this is my room.” Koreh’s missing jacket was thrown unceremoniously on the small bed. It looked like a wounded animal to Sael. 

“Yes,” Sael grunted. “Don’t misbehave.” 

-

“Misbehave?” Koreh asked, lifting up an eyebrow.

He thought Sael would launch into a tirade of all the ways he could get himself into trouble, but one look at Sael told Koreh that that there would be no arguments tonight. Sael looked like would collapse. 

“Here,” Koreh said softly. He divested Sael of his coat and boots in record time, but when he went for the rest of Sael’s clothing, he Sael gently pushed his hand away. 

“You should get some sleep. I doubt the Emperor will try anything now. He’s had plenty of time all ready.” With that, Sael shut the doors to his bedroom behind him, keeping Koreh effectively out. 

“Goodnight to you, too.” 

Koreh hunkered down on his small bed in the servant’s room. He’d been sure to douse all the candles (did the Emperor not fear the place catching on fire?) when he’d first found it. 

He lay still in his bed. He wasn’t too tired despite the long day. Truth be told, he’d napped all the time Sael had been gone and now he was too awake for sleep. He tried to meditate. The first time the Taaweh had communicated with him, he’d been in a dreamlike state brought on by starvation. He’d since found easier ways to contact them, but meditation was least shocking of these. At least this way, he expected the Taaweh to come. 

“Iinyeh Koreh,” a voice sounded from the darkest corner of the room. Koreh followed it and at first saw nothing. Then, he looked closer and saw the small figure of a child. 

“Long time no see.” He knew such casual greetings did not work with the Taaweh, but he was in a talkative mood. 

“Iinyeh Koreh,” the Taaweh said, not sensing Koreh’s amicableness, “I have come to tell you that the Stronni’s light is strong here. We will not be able to communicate as we have before.” 

“So I’m basically on my own now.” 

“You have Iinyeh Sael.” 

Barley, Koreh almost said. Sael’s moods were unpredictable and Koreh doubted it would be any time soon before he could tell the boy of his powers. 

“What is it we’re meant to do here?” Koreh asked. 

“We have foreseen many possible futures. The best futures involve you leaving here and going back to Harleh.” 

“I guess we can’t go right now, can we?” 

The Taaweh shook its head back and forth. “No, not now.” The room started to go chilly. The Taaweh’s form started to dissipate. “You will be plunged into darkness, Iinyeh Koreh. Only then may you leave.” 

Koreh felt the cold rush through his bones. “And what about Sael?” 

“Iinyeh Sael will walk through the mist. You will be tempted to save him, Iinyeh Koreh, but you must not.” 

“Why not?” 

But the Taaweh had already faded away.


	7. Chapter 7

Sael dönz Menaük was discovering that it was actually impossible to fall asleep in a bed in the Emperor’s palace. He rolled around, tossed and turned, but sleep eluded him. That made no sense, because his body desperately wanted sleep. It screamed for rest, every muscle aching to a pounding crescendo in his head. Perhaps the Emperor really did intend to kill him his first night in gü-Khemed. Maybe he’d poisoned his food or drink or laced the very sheets with something fatal. 

It was possible, but not likely. 

Sael huffed, turning on his back again. There was one option. He could invite Koreh in here. Perhaps the young man’s presence would comfort him. But he wasn’t ready for that yet. He wasn’t even sure what Koreh was, yet. He wasn’t a valet and he wasn’t samöt. And his power—it was like nothing Sael had ever seen before. 

He felt his heart quicken. 

Koreh was like nothing he’d ever seen before. Just the thought of those eyes on him, like he was the only person in the world. 

Sleep found him eventually and when he opened his eyes next, he found the Atnu high in the sky. 

“They delivered breakfast hours ago.” Sael had wobbely tiptoed into the main room to see a—for once—impeccable Koreh. On the table was an ice cold breakfast for himself and an empty place right beside it. 

“And you didn’t wake me?” 

“I took one look at you and decided you needed the sleep.” 

Sael shot him a vexed glare. 

One look in the mirror, however, confirmed that what Koreh had said was true. He did look rankled with bags hanging out of his eyes and every other hair out of place. Worst of all, he didn’t think Koreh would be able to magically turn him into something presentable. 

“I’m going out,” Koreh announced from the other room. 

“Out? Out where?” 

“Just out. I don’t know where yet.” 

Sael stomped back into the main room. “You’re just going to leave me here?” 

“Do you want me to stay?” 

Koreh was impossible! 

“Do what you want.” Sael crossed his arms. “Just don’t get killed or anything.” 

His not-valet winked at him. “Don’t get killed either. Bye, hun!” And with that, he disappeared behind the door. 

Really, very, extremely impossible! 

After a few cantankerous minutes of wrangling with his hair, Sael finally thought he looked at least half-way decent. He ventured into the hall and Mendoz instantly started to follow after him. Sael wondered if there was anyone following Koreh around. Sael didn’t want to think that he attracted too much suspicion just yet, but he was Koreh after all. 

But there was something else weighing on Sael’s mind. He hadn’t seen Geilin since dinner. 

“Master Geilin?” His guard asked, his tone almost disgusted that Sael should ask such a rudimentary question. “I have told you before. He is in the vönan quarter.” 

“And where is the vönan quarter?” 

The guard grunted and led him down a flight of stairs and into a new wing of the palace. It was just as ornate as the rest of the place, but books lined the walls of this wing, and there were artifacts on display. Comfortable couches and chairs also lined the walkways and it was here he found his master, indulging himself in a midmorning read. 

“Why if it isn’t Sael!” 

“Master Geilin. What is this place?” Sael’s eyes were bright and wide. 

“It seems one of the emperors felt that vönan were spending too much time at the academy, so he brought a piece of the academy here.” Geilin inclined his head. “It literally is a piece of the academy. Those book shelves once stood in the building until the emperor had them ripped out. Sad story, really.” 

It seemed a bit brutal, but Sael didn’t care. He stared out at the books, a look of longing threatening to envelop his features. 

Geilin snapped the book closed and Sael was forced to rip his eyes away from them. 

“I understand you’d like to go the academy today?” 

Sael could have rejoiced. Instead, he adopted the most refined expression he could muster and said, “if you are not busy, Master Geilin, I should like to accompany you.” 

Mendoz, however, would not have it. 

“His Highness needs written permission to leave the palace.” 

“Written permission?” Sael’s face skewed into a frown. 

“Yes,” Mendoz said. “The Emperor will not let his charge wonder around the city unprotected.” 

“Isn’t that what you’re for? To protect me?”

Mendoz said nothing, but the effect was clear. Sael wouldn’t be leaving the palace any time soon. 

“And just who do I get written permission from?” 

The guard gave him another condescending look. “His Majesty, the Emperor.” 

“Fine. Just tell me how to do it.” 

It turned out, the Emperor had many similar requests to look over and it would take time to thoroughly inspect all of them. Sael’s request was added to the bottom of the heaping stack, although he’d been encouraged by the attendant that it would be less than a week for his query to process. 

Sael groaned. 

-

Koreh had enjoyed his morning exploring the outer rims of the city. He recalled fond memories of chasing his siblings along the wharfs and looking for crabs under the docks. But it all had a different feel to it now. His family was dead and he felt he was no longer a part of the poor quarter’s citizenry. His clothing was too pressed and no guards gave him trouble for roaming about. To the eye, he looked like just another servant sent to do his master’s bidding. 

He made his way back up to the palace after only a couple hours of roaming around. Getting back in wasn’t a problem (the guards at the gates seemed to have a nearly spotless memory), but finding Sael’s room was. The palace was a maze of stairs and doors and terraces and balconies. Just when he thought he was close, he realized he was in another section of the palace entirely. If he could only use his magic, he’d be able to pinpoint Sael’s location immediately, but he was weary of the Emperor’s ömem. He knew he was definitely going the wrong way when he stumbled upon a dark staircase. Unlike the rest of the palace, this area wasn’t lit up with the thousands of candles he’d seen. There weren’t even any sconces on the walls. The air was stale here and seemed to vibrate with menace. Koreh could sense the faint magical power in the air, but it didn’t seem like it was human. 

The average person might have run and never looked back, but Koreh’s curiosity was piqued. He descended the staircase and traveled farther into the palace’s depths. When he reached the bottom he was unimpressed at first. It was a large, empty room of stone floors and stone walls. Then he examined the walls. Huge claw marks had gouged the stone. At least, they resembled claw marks, but the scratches were unevenly spread and, in places, stretched from ceiling to floor. He wasn’t sure what kind of creature could do such a thing. Even a wolf wouldn’t have been able to scratch out stone the way this thing had. 

Having enough of the place and the eery feeling, Koreh crawled back up the staircase and searched for Sael’s room once more. He found the nobleman seething, as usual.

“So the Emperor won’t let you out of the palace? Is that it?” Koreh popped a roasted kanun seed into his mouth. He’d missed lunch and all that was left was the seeds. 

“Yes,” Sael said. He crossed his arms and pushed himself further into the couch. “How frustrating.” 

Koreh could tell he’d been venting for the past half-hour or so. At least he’d managed to drag a whole pile of books into the room

Geilin gave him a sympathetic grin. “The Emperor may be weary of you trying to escape in these early weeks. Give it some time.” 

“I just want to see the academy,” Sael grumbled. He buried himself in a pile of books and sulked. 

Koreh wanted to tell them about the room he’d found and the scratches on the wall, but he was sure the Emperor had ears and eyes everywhere here. 

“I have an idea,” Koreh said. 

Sael’s head popped up from where it’d been slumped in the sofa. He stared at Koreh expectantly. 

“Why don’t I just bring the academy’s books to you, little lord? It doesn’t seem like they’re keen on making me stay in the palace.” 

“Hm,” Geilin stroked his chin. “That could very well work in the interim. Of course, I’ll accompany you. The academy’s sorting system is a hard thing to master in just a day.” 

“So? How does that sound?” 

Sael gave a mirthless smile. “Have fun.” 

“Poor Sael,” Geilin sighed as they left the palace gates. “It was his dream to study at the academy.” 

Koreh focused on the red tower looming in the distance. He’d always known of it, after all, it was one of the largest in the city. But he hadn’t really thought of it as a place he’d ever go to. And yet, here he was, fetching books for a crestfallen nobleman. 

“Ah,” Geilin said. “It seems you also have something that’s weighing on your mind.” 

He related what he’d found in the dark room. Geilin, meanwhile, had adopted disconcerted frown. “A monster in the palace? That would be most unusual.” 

“I know what I saw.” 

“I don’t doubt that. However…” Geilin cupped his chin. “It troubles me that the Emperor would have something so dangerous in his midsts.” 

“Have you ever heard of a creature that could make claw marks like that?” 

“A ghusat, but they don’t survive out of the water for very long, and transporting one here would inspire quite the ruckus.” 

The claw marks, the dark room, it didn’t make sense. By the time they entered the academy, Koreh’s head was brimming with theories. Horrible theories. And he’d just left Sael in the palace, alone, with all of those horrible theories. 

Geilin soon took his mind off it. He assigned Koreh a wing of the academy’s massive library to stake out. He also described what sorts of books to look for, which helped Koreh out immensely. 

He was pursuing the stacks when a voice quirked behind him, “your employer too lazy to look for his own damn books too?” 

Koreh spun around. A boy dressed in a servant’s outfit waved at him. He had the same dark hair and fair complex of a typical Westerner. 

“Yeah,” Koreh said. “Something like that.” 

“Wish they could just get their own books every once in a while,” the boy said as he struggled to reach something on a higher shelf. The book tipped down, and a couple more followed it to the floor. “It’s hard enough finding the right ones as it is.” 

Koreh had no doubt about that. He, too, was struggling to find everything on Geilin’s list. 

“Hey,” Koreh asked. Something else had been on his mind the second he entered the library. “You find any books about monsters here?” 

“Monsters? You mean like demens?” 

Even just the word made Koreh’s skin crawl. Perhaps that was what the Emperor was hiding.

“Yeah, those sorts of monsters.” 

“You could try the folktales section.” 

The folktale section was little more than a small shelf of tales that had been recorded around the country. Most of the text wasn’t too promising, but at least it was easy for Koreh to understand. The tales had been recorded word for word by country folk, and the vocabulary wasn’t too complex. 

He left the wing with an armful and went in search of Geilin. He didn’t need to look very far to find the man; he needed to look up. 

“How are you doing that?” Geilin was suspended about ten feet in the air. His fingers perused an impossibly high shelf. 

“Ah, you’ve never seen vönan magic like this before, have you?” 

The man eased down, falling as if he were as light as a feather. 

“Vönan can fly?” 

Geilin nodded. “It’s an advanced skill, one only the great masters can sustain for a long while.” His eyes glistened and for a second he seemed to adopt a rueful look. “Sael could fly, too, once.” 

“He could?” Koreh couldn’t imagine that. For as long as he had known him, Sael had never used powers. But there was little point in Geilin lying to him. 

“It took him a considerable amount of focus, but yes.” 

Koreh tried to imagine if he lost the powers the Taaweh had given him. He’d feel so hollow, so useless, without them. There wasn’t much doubt that was the way Sael felt now. No wonder he had such a vociferous appetite for every book he could get his hands on. 

“Let’s get these books back to him, then. I imagine he’s growing impatient.”

Geilin chuckled. “You’re probably right.” 

-

Sael needed to get out. The room was way too stuffy with the skylight burning down on him, and he’d already dogeared and bookmarked everything that looked promising in the books. 

He stepped out of the apartment without a plan. Mendoz followed, of course. For some reason, Sael found himself going back to the small garden by the colonnades. In the light, the balcony looked even more familiar. And chilling. Sael shivered. 

Still, it was a beautiful day. The Eye lighted the leaves of the trees so that they glowed white and the fragrant flowers were in bloom. He found a bench and sat down, intent on enjoying the Spring afternoon. That’s when he noticed the another boy in the garden. He hadn’t seen him so much as the entourage that surrounded him, a number of guards just as bulky and fierce as Mendoz. 

Sael came up to him and introduced himself. He hadn’t realized there were other young nobles in the palace. Everyone he had seen at dinner was years older than him. This boy looked just a few years younger than Sael himself. 

“You too, huh?” He said, motioning to Mendoz who stood a fair way off. 

“Yes, it’s quite a burden, isn’t it?” The boy’s eyes lit up in good humor. 

“Have you been here long?” Sael asked. He hadn’t known the Emperor had other charges—as he called them—and Sael was just dreadfully bored. 

“All my life.” 

“How awful.” 

The boy kicked back on the bench. He might have been sunning himself, but Sael saw he wore the same kind of robes as the emperor with gold and silver thread embroidered in brocade patterns. 

It hit Sael then and there. How could he have not noticed it at first?

“I suppose it’s better that way. Father insists on it. Your father didn’t have guards follow you around in the West?” 

“I’m afraid not, Your Highness. I’m only the second son.” 

“How lucky for you.” The boy shook his head. “I seem to have forgotten myself. My name is Tull dönz Nesharr.” 

Tull dönz Nesharr… the Emperor’s only son. 

“No, you must forgive my rudeness, Your Highness. I struck up a conversation with you, not knowing who you were.” And he’d called the royal guard awful at that! 

“Don’t think of it.” Tull waved his hand. Soon, a wave of that hand would decide the fate of the country, Sael thought. “Did you have a good journey here?” 

“Yes, Your Highness. Travel between the kingdoms isn’t without its set backs, of course.” 

“Truly?” Tull cocked his head. “You must tell me of your travels, Sael dönz Menaük.” 

“Sael is fine.” And Sael found himself relating an account of his travels the latter half of that afternoon. Tull was especially taken by his escape from the thieves of Old Mat’zovya, although Sael left out the part of going underground with Koreh. And many other things having to do with Koreh, of course.

“You have an extraordinary valet, Sael. I’d very much like to meet him. And you again, as well.” 

“Yes, Your Highness. We must arrange it.” He liked Tull all ready. The boy was nothing like his father. So amicable. So straightforward. Sael couldn’t say he was much like his own father, either. 

He was just about to suggest the right time for the two to meet again when the dressing gong rang. Sael looked at walls of the palace, now dyed a light pink in the late afternoon. 

Tull rose. “I must be off. Please see to it that your needs are provided for. A guest of your stature deserves the utmost care.” The guards flanked him immediately and all Sael could see of his departure was the glimmer of silver and gold thread. 

-

“Patience, Your Majesty,” Marik chided. She’d slipped into a robe and now sat curled on the divan. The soft silk of the robe caressed her naked body and she considered lounging about in it all evening. “Its magic is not something to be rushed, nor something we can easily control.” 

Emperor Savön dönz Nesharr still lay naked in the satin sheets. The man’s belly only seemed to grow larger, Marik noticed, so much so that he looked like a seal in the sea of bedding. 

“You promised it wouldn’t be long,” Savön complained. “I’ll not have the Vek of Worlen do as he pleases.” 

“Need I remind you, Your Majesty, that you have his son?” Oh, she’d seen how the Emperor had raged when the vek refused to send his son to the capital five years ago. But who could blame him, really? Plague had ransacked the city only two years prior and there had still be unrest and riots in the streets. Things had calmed considerably since then, but Marik knew it would only take a trifle to upset the populace once more. 

“He has another son.” 

Unlike you, Your Majesty, Marik said in her mind. She cupped a glass of wine between her long fingers. 

“Yes,” she said. Her lips curled into a wide smile. “But for how long?” 

She was the most powerful ömem in the entire country, and the most beautiful, but even she could not see the future. What she did See, however, was the vek’s son hurrying back to his room to dress for dinner. 

Poor child, she said to this vision, may the gods have mercy on you.   
-

Koreh was half-asleep on the sofa when Sael returned from dinner. 

“Do those dinner parties always run so late?” He half-mumbled, half-groaned as he rolled from his lounging position on the sofa. 

“I suppose so.” Once again, Sael wasn’t in any mood for chitchat. The dinners always seemed to wear him out, no matter how little he interacted with everyone else. Apparently, the nobility had little interest in the workings of magic, much to Sael’s chagrin. 

Koreh helped him undress. He was so much better than when they first met by now. The clothing came off without hesitation. “Maybe you could really be a valet,” Sael said. Then a yawn caught him, a large one that sent him further into the doldrums of sleep. 

“I.. need to sleep,” he said. He scurried to the doors of his bedroom and gave a last lingering look at Koreh before he opened them. 

“Goodnight. Thanks for that.” He pointed at the book stacks on the table. The room was turning into a library. 

“You’re welcome. Uh… goodnight.” Koreh looked just as sleepy, and Sael gave him a soft smile before he entered his bedchamber. 

Should he have invited Koreh inside? It was too late now, but a part of him still screamed to open the door and let the boy kiss him until morning. How nice would that be? If it were that way, the Emperor wouldn’t matter. Perhaps he’d even persuade Koreh to take him underground again and they could run away together along with Master Geilin. 

Sael shook off the silly thoughts. He said he’d make his father proud and he didn’t intend to run away. He climbed into the freshly pressed sheets of his bed and felt himself relax. Unlike last night, he had no trouble finding sleep and it found him like a pack of hounds after a stag. 

A scratching noise woke him. He rose, looking blearily around. The room seemed covered in smoke, but he didn’t smell anything burning. Perhaps it was fog, but when he went to look for the open window, a figure arrested his vision. 

“You’re awake, I see.” 

“Father?” 

The Vek of Worlen was standing in his room. He wore his customary long coat and his posture was as straight as a mast. 

“What are you doing here, Father?” 

“Do you know why I sent you here, Sael?” His father’s voice was the same humorless one he’d always known. 

“The Emperor sent for me. You didn’t have a choice this time.” 

“That’s only part of the reason.” 

“Then… why?” 

“You failed your duty to your brother and the Western Kingdom. I have no use for a failure in the family. A Menaük does not lose.” 

“I-I won’t disappoint you again, Father.” 

“No, I don’t think you will. Perhaps I should just kill you myself so you can’t be used against me.” 

Sael’s entire body froze. Had his father really said that? No, he must have heard incorrectly. He tried to say something, but the only word that came from his mouth was, “k-kill?” 

“Yes.” Worlen nodded triumphantly. His voice took on a renewed vigor. “You will no longer bring shame to the Menaük name.” 

“You can’t mean that, Father.” 

His father seemed to glide closer. “My dear child,” he said. Sael tried to look into his face, but it was too dark to see his features. “Of course I do.” 

He felt his father’s hand, harder than a block of stone, strike him. Blackness spread. 

Sael woke up gasping. He looked furiously around. No mist, no hand as hard as stone, no father. 

It had only been a dream. Sael laid back in the bed. His body was drenched in sweat and he felt strange and weak. Was he coming down with another fever?

He felt his forehead, but it didn’t feel hot. Regardless, he felt clammy and cold. Sael crept out of his room and into the main room. The sky in the skylight was a grayish blue. Perhaps it would rain today.

Not thinking too much about the weather, he opened the door of the bathroom. His eyes took a few minutes to adjust to the dark. 

“Good morning, little lord.” 

A Koreh-like shaped sat in the tub. 

“A-are you taking a bath in the dark?” 

Koreh seemed to relax back into the tub. “Yep.” He could almost see his smug grin. 

“Why?” Sael gaped. 

“I wanted to freshen up before you woke up.”

“But why in the dark?” 

“Years of living in the forest. And I couldn’t find a candle.” 

Sael rolled his eyes. He’d been meaning to ask what that whole living in the forest thing meant, but for now he retrieved a few candles. It was strange having to light them with the dying sparks of the hearth. Since he was young, he’d always relied on his powers to light candles. 

He came back to the bathroom just as Koreh was getting out of the tub. “I’m pretty sure the water is still warm.” 

“Y-you’re naked!” 

“Most people who’ve just bathed are.” 

Sael felt his ears get hot. Koreh whisked right past him and grabbed a towel from the shelf. “Would you like me to help you bathe, little lord?” 

“Not today.” 

Koreh shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He closed the door behind him and Sael was left alone. 

-

Was Sael still so shy around him? Koreh didn’t know. Maybe it wasn’t shyness. Maybe he’d forgotten what they’d done in the inn at Denök. But Koreh remembered. Every time he thought of Sael’s skin under his lips he felt the heat rush to his groin. 

Perhaps it was this city. Gü-Khemed had changed Sael’s mood for the worst and those nights when he was cranky and tired were the most time they had together alone. 

Koreh looked up at the skylight. The clouds were churning and he heard distant crackles of thunder. It sounded like a vicious storm was on the way. Koreh leaned back. He’d always hated storms when he’d lived with his family. The winds would threaten to blow the thin walls of their home down and the floor would always get damp and wet so that he’d have to crawl around the floor in the dark to find a dry spot. He’d liked storms even less when he moved to the forest. There wasn’t a dry spot to be found until the Taaweh had started giving him dreams. 

He was in the midst of reminiscing of his days in the forest, when he heard the bathroom door open. Sael came out, hair dripping and wrapped in a towel. His lips held a slight pout. 

“I… I’ll call for you when I’m ready.” The doors to the bedroom opened and shut before Koreh could think of a response, but he guessed it was time to play valet again. He inspected the wardrobe and chose a coat that matched the weather outside. 

“Nice color,” Sael griped as Koreh dressed him. 

“I thought it might go with your mood.” 

Sael glared at him. “Why are you always like this?” 

“Like what?” 

Sael gestured at the whole of him. “Like this. Were you raised by wolves or something?” 

“I was raised by my parents.” 

“They obviously know little of respect.” 

“They’re dead. They died in the plague.” 

That seemed to stop Sael in his tracks. “Oh…” He looked down. “I’m sorry.” After some time, he looked up again. His green eyes seemed to soften. “Is that why you lived in the forest?” 

“That’s part of the reason.” Koreh didn’t feel like telling him about the harassment he’d faced in the city. “I guess I just got tired of people after a while.” 

He looked away and stared out at the room. It occurred to him this was the first time he’d been in Sael’s bedroom. It was cozier than he imagined, much like his own room, but the furniture was of a higher quality. The bed took up most of the space. The desk and most of the chairs were piled high with books. Was Sael so cranky because he’d spent the night reading? 

“That sounds lonely.” Sael’s voice was wistful. Koreh had only meant to rile him up a little, not bring him down. 

“It wasn’t really.” He couldn’t tell Sael about the Taaweh and how they had provided the company he’d needed. “I mean, it was. But being lonely isn’t always a bad thing.” 

“I guess it isn’t.” Sael still seemed like he was lost in his own world. 

Koreh heard the rippling of rain clouds and thunder. The storm was coming closer. 

He watched as Sael collected an armful of books and turned back to the main room. “Would you like to keep me company today?” The books seemed heavy, and yet Sael didn’t struggle to hold them up. 

“Sure,” he said as he took a few books off Sael’s hands. 

There was something endearing about the way Sael could bury himself in a book. His green eyes would become extremely focused, and Koreh often found him mouthing the words he read. Koreh, too, found himself picking at the pages of a few. Most were beyond his comprehension, but he enjoyed the pictures well enough. 

Breakfast arrived soon enough and Geilin arrived shortly after that. 

“The weather was always unpredictable this time of year.” His lips twisted at the gray skylight. 

The three of them spent the next few hours with their heads buried behind books. The storm raged on above and a splattering of rain hit the skylight. Koreh thought he was numb to the rumblings of thunder when a snap caused him to rip his attention from a book. It hadn’t been the storm, however; Sael had just closed a book with too much force.

“There’s nothing, Master Geilin.” Sael sighed dejectedly, his head bowing in defeat. “There’s nothing about vönan or trainees losing their powers. Only in death does…” 

Geilin clicked his tongue. “Well, you’re not dead, Sael, or someone certainly would have noticed by now.” 

Sael winced and his lips skewed to one side of his face. 

Koreh wanted to nag him about this, but he didn’t feel like having a repeat of what happened earlier that morning. 

“So.” Geilin’s gaze now turned to Koreh. “Have you found anything else about that monster of yours?” 

“Monster?” Sael’s voice took on a renewed interest. 

Koreh had been reluctant to talk about what he’d seen in the palace. After all, there was no trusting their conversations wouldn’t be overheard. But the weather was cooperating this time, blinding the ömem’s Sight. 

So he talked about the claw marks he’d seen. And Sael argued about the claw marks he’d seen. 

“There’s no way a monster could be here.” 

“That doesn’t explain the claw marks.” 

“It’s probably just a practice room for the guards.” 

“But they can’t practice in the dark.” 

“It’s probably just really old and forgotten about.” 

“I know what I saw.”

Koreh hadn’t wanted to argue with Sael, but it seemed like he’d been pulled into a row anyway.

“It seems,” Geilin thankfully interrupted them, “that today would be the perfect opportunity to explore that room. Do you remember where it was, Koreh?” 

“I guess I could retrace my steps.” 

“Then it’s settled.” Geilin put his hands on his knees and rose. “I can confirm what Koreh saw so there’s no question.” 

Sael frowned. “You two better go without me, then. Mendoz would just report back to the Emperor anyway.” 

Koreh didn’t need to argue with that. He gave a mock salute, clicking his heels together. “As you wish, little lord!” 

Sael glared. “Don’t misbehave.”


	8. Chapter 8

“How very odd.” Geilin traced a finger down the long, narrow hole in the wall. His other hand cupped a small flame. It resembled a flower bud, and Koreh thought it was kind of nice, even though it was Stronni magic. He was beginning to realize that Stronni magic had its uses, too. Even if the Stronni were enemies of the Taaweh, their magic had proved invaluable to humans. Perhaps neither of the magics were evil, just opposites of each other. Just like he and Sael were. 

“Do they look like sword marks to you?” 

“No swordsman would cut into rock like this, even if he were trying to prove a point. It would ruin the sword.” The marks were all over the room, some as shallow as a fingernail, others so deep and narrow Koreh had no idea where they ended. 

Koreh was glad Geilin agreed with him, but that didn’t ward off the foreboding feeling he felt churning in his stomach. 

“But what do you think it is?” 

“That I don’t know.” Geilin grimaced. “And I wouldn’t like to meet it.” 

The two of them agreed that they didn’t want to stay there any longer than they all ready had, and hurried back to Sael’s room. 

Sael was standing outside the door when they arrived. He was accompanied by Mendoz, of course, and someone with an even larger assortment of guards. 

“Master Geilin! Koreh! Allow me to introduce His Highness, Tull dönz Nesharr.” 

Koreh saw Geilin swing into a deep bow and Koreh did the same. 

Tull dönz Nesharr? The name was uncannily familiar. 

“It’s the Emperor’s son,” Geilin whispered while the both of them were still bowed over. 

Koreh gaped. “What?” 

He rose and looked at the new boy. He certainly was dressed like he was someone important. His dark hair was cut short and he held his chin high, although not in a cocky way. 

“So this is your valet.” The boy seemed to know Koreh all ready, which was unnerving. “A true-blooded citizen of gü-Khemed. No wonder he’s such an excellent worker.” 

“You honor me, Your Highness.” Koreh managed to sound as formal as he could, so that Sael even seemed astonished. 

“And I heard that you, Sael, are quite adept at swordplay.” 

“I try, Your Highness.” 

“We must have a match sometime. It would be an honor to test my skills against you.” 

“I would very much like that, Your Highness.” Sael’s smiled, the first genuine grin Koreh had seen since they arrived in gü-Khemed. 

Tull said his farewells and continued down the hall. The clink of armor followed him. 

Koreh waited until they were indoors to speak what was on his mind. “You told him about me?” You idiot. Them not knowing I’m not actually a valet is one of the only advantages we have. 

“Not everything.” Sael seemed unapologetic about the whole thing. “I want to hear about what you saw, Master Geilin.” 

So Sael was just going to cut him off, too, apparently. 

He listened to Geilin’s observations only half-heartedly. When Sael’s curiosity was sated, Koreh went back to the conversation with the Emperor’s son. 

“I don’t think you should have told him about me. I don’t deserve praise.” It was the most he could say with Geilin listening in. 

“I didn’t mean to, at first,” Sael explained. “It just came out.” 

Wasn’t Sael smarter than that? 

“I guess it’s just that he reminds me of myself.” 

Koreh dropped the argument there. Sael had infinitely more privilege dthan Koreh had ever known, but he had no freedom, especially here. Koreh had had all the freedom he ever wanted and no one to share it with. He couldn’t blame the boy for reaching out to others who were like him. 

“Just don’t say anymore.” 

“Of course. What do you take me for?” 

Geilin didn’t betray a hint of emotion during the whole exchange, but Koreh knew his mind was at work, undoubtedly intrigued by this little bout. 

-

The rain let up just as the day was ending and Geilin excused himself for Namom. Sael sat in that uneasy silence with Koreh until the both of them heard dressing gong. 

“I’m sorry about that whole thing with the Emperor’s son. You’re right. I do need to be more careful.” 

Koreh had once again chosen an impeccable coat for him to wear for dinner. He donned it, glad to be rid of the slate gray one from earlier that day. 

“We all do,” was all Koreh said. Sael looked into his eyes. They were the same clear blue color that Sael had found irresistible the first time he’d seen them. He grabbed Koreh’s hand and those blue eyes flicked over to him. 

“I wish we were back in Harleh,” Sael said.

Koreh’s grip tightened around his fingers. “Me, too.” He leaned in, but Sael backed away and broke their hands’ grasp. 

“N-no.” Sael’s eyes flashed to the skylight and then back down. Koreh made an “oh” with his lips. He left Koreh standing there as he made his way for dinner. 

Sael hated living this way. It was like the Emperor had a chokehold on him without even lifting a finger. Sael felt as if his every move was watched and analyzed for weakness. He couldn’t love Koreh this way, not when the Emperor could use the boy against him. 

Yet again, Sael played the part of the visiting nobleman at dinner. He was finding it easier to strike up conversation with those of the court, as long as those conversations remained insipid and vacuous. 

When he returned to his room, he found himself tired as usual. Koreh helped him prepare for bed, but seemed to catch the hint about pretending to be nothing more than a valet. He didn’t even attempt to make a joke or a suggestion about slipping into bed with him. In his heart, Sael missed the old Koreh, but there was nothing he could do about it. 

Sael hit the bed and found himself wallowing through the mist once again. It was thicker than the last time, so thick that he couldn’t see his hands, even if he spread them out in front of his face. 

“Lost again, Sael?” 

It was Seffni’s voice. Sael looked to the side of him and saw a blot of a figure standing nearby. 

“Seffni? What are you doing here?” 

“Don’t you get it, Sael?” It was his brother’s voice, but it had none of the good humor his brother had. 

“Get what?” 

“You’re dead.” 

Sael gasped. He tried to look at himself but remembered he hadn’t even been able to see his hand. 

“This can’t be, Seffni! You have to help me.” 

“Help you?” The voice sneered. “That’s all I’ve done my whole life. And for what? Not even father wanted you.” 

Sael felt the tears coming. “That’s not true!” 

“Of course it is.” Seffni’s figure was fading away. “That’s why he had you killed.” 

“No wait! Come back! Seffni!” But his Seffni’s shadow had all ready vanished. 

Sael looked all around for it, but all he saw was the white mist. It spread around him, so close that it was getting hard to breathe. 

“Seffni…” His voice sounded weak and raspy. “Seff…” 

“Hey, wake up!” 

Sael’s eyes opened slowly. He was in his room once more and Koreh was looking over him with concern. 

“What just happened?” 

“You must have had a dream,” Koreh said. “You kept calling a name in your sleep.” 

“Seffni…” Sael touched his head. It didn’t feel any hotter than yesterday. 

“You okay?” Koreh asked. 

“I keep having weird dreams.” 

Koreh gave him a sympathetic look. “Yeah, I have strange dreams too, sometimes.” 

“I… don’t know why.” 

Koreh shook his head. “Why don’t you get more rest, little lord? I’ll wake you when breakfast arrives.” 

Sael wasn’t sure he wanted to sleep again, but his body felt drained from the dream and he didn’t feel like getting out of bed at that moment. 

“O…kay.” This time, he slept soundly and if he had dreamed, he couldn’t remember. 

-

The days continued on for Sael much like they had before. He continued a dance of cautious flirtations with Koreh, and ached for his touch. He had all the books in gü-Khemed at his disposal, but none of the answers. And the nightmares assaulted his sleep, less frequent, but more intense than they had been before. 

The only consolation for all this came about a week after they had arrived in the capital. A messenger delivered a paper with Emperor’s own seal. 

“He’s finally letting me leave this place.” Sael had been growing lethargic, and it was obvious in his voice. 

“Perhaps the fresh air will be good for your health,” Geilin commented. “And it does seem like a pleasant day, Gods willing.” Fluffy wisps of clouds sailed in the skylight above. 

“Where to first, little lord?” Koreh, too, sounded ecstatic to get a move on. Sael almost giggled at his wide smile. “Let me guess, the academy?” 

“I want to see where you grew up, Koreh.” 

The boy’s eyes widened. “You want to see what?” 

“I need to see it.” Sael looked at him. “I need to see how people like you live.” 

Koreh blinked at him. “Very well.” 

The Emperor’s letter came with some stipulations, of course. Sael was only allowed to leave under guard and could only leave the palace before Namom. It was no less than what he’d expected, but Mendoz did not look too thrilled when he told them where they were going. 

“The wharf district? It smells like fish and piss.” 

Sael paid him no mind as they departed the palace. He never thought he’d be so happy to leave its luxuries and descend into the impoverished districts, but he was, and fantastically so. 

They followed Koreh on foot, wending down the zigzagging streets. The storefronts began to look shabbier and he began to see patches sewn into the people’s clothing. As they moved closer to the shore, Sael saw that some of the people had nothing to wear at all. They were mostly children or the elderly, too sickly to know shame. 

Mendoz’s nose wrinkled as the sound of the ocean became closer. 

“See? Fish and piss.” 

Sael tried to refrain from covering his nose. Koreh didn’t, and he didn’t want to offend him. 

“Well,” Koreh stopped at a spot. “This was where it was, just about.” 

They were a few blocks from the docks. Sael could hear the screams of birds and the rumbling of waves. The people here shouted their wares and he’d seen moldy bread and bug-ridden fruits in their carts. 

“Was? What happened to it?” The houses and shops here looked as if they’d been thrown together at the last minute, a patchwork of rotting wood and cracked stone. 

“It was burned in the plague.” Koreh said it with a straight face, but Sael knew it was bringing up dreadful memories for the boy. Why had he asked Koreh to come here? It seemed like a cruel thing to do.

“I’m sorry.” His apology was almost breathless. 

“It’s not your fault.” 

“But still…” 

Koreh looked like he was about to argue with him again, but then his face took on a touch of concern. 

“Hey, are you okay?” 

Sael had begun to feel lightheaded and dizzy. He found himself looking up at the sky and wondering how it got to be just as impossibly blue as Koreh’s eyes. Then it felt as if he were falling, down, down. And then—nothing.


	9. Chapter 9

“Sael!” Koreh grabbed Sael before he fell to the ground. The boy was dead weight in his arms, and Koreh found himself struggling to keep him up as best he could. 

“See! We should not have come here!” Mendoz said from somewhere above, but did not come to help. 

Meanwhile, Koreh was on his knees. He rolled Sael around so that his head was in his lap. 

“Sael?” At least he was still breathing, Koreh realized, if the rise and fall of his chest were any indication. 

Geilin was beside him in another second. “Call for a horse, man! Don’t just stand there.” His orders were directed at Mendoz, who shot a glare back, but did as he was told. 

“What happened?” Koreh looked at Geilin desperately. Healthy people didn’t just collapse in the streets. “Is the Emperor poisoning him?” 

“No.” Geilin shook his head. His lips were a thin line. “His color is normal, if a bit pale.” 

Sael looked paler than when he’d come down with a fever. If not for his breathing, Koreh thought he might be holding a corpse. The thought terrified him. 

The hoof beats of a horse tore Koreh’s attention off of Sael. 

He looked up to see Mendoz’s stern face. His hands held the horse’s bridle in a tight grip. “One horse. Give him to me. I will take him to the palace.” 

Koreh wanted to refuse, but he knew Sael needed help soon. He couldn’t even use his Taaweh powers without risking being found out. 

“Take care of him,” he said as Mendoz ripped Sael from his arms. He rode away swiftly, but Koreh couldn’t tell if Mendoz was glad to be rid of them or if the man had a sense of urgency. 

Koreh looked to Geilin. The old man began the walk to the palace. His pace was steady, but not fast. 

“Shouldn’t we hurry?” Koreh wanted to run and be back at Sael’s side as quickly as possible. He hated the idea of leaving him alone with Mendoz. He recalled what the guards had put him through when he was younger and imagined how well a defenseless Sael would fair. He almost broke into a sprint. 

“Calm down, Koreh.” 

“How can I calm down? Something’s wrong!” 

“Yes, something is wrong, but no good will come of us panicking.” 

Koreh tried to calm himself. He felt his heart beating in his ears and his stomach filling with dread. 

“I… just… they could do anything to him.” 

“Koreh…” Geilin twisted his lips. “What I’m about to say will sound cruel, but it’s the truth. The Emperor doesn’t want Sael dead. To him, Sael is the only thing that keeps the vek from rebelling. If you were the Emperor, wouldn’t you want to hold on to that advantage as long you possibly could?” 

Koreh knew what he was saying. It was the same as when they talked by the fire in Harleh. Koreh couldn’t have known exactly what he was getting himself into then. Koreh hadn’t loved Sael then. “I know but he’s definitely doing something. And Sael, he’s—”

“Yes, Sael will suffer the most from this power play. If the vek makes one wrong move, he’ll likely lose his life.” 

“But it’s not fair!” Koreh was fuming. “It’s not fair that the Emperor can just use him like that.” 

“And it wasn’t fair that your family died in the plague.” Geilin’s words were stern, but not accusatory. “I’m afraid both the lives you lead, however different they are, aren’t fair in the least.” 

Koreh knew that. He’d always known that. He looked up at the palace, and directed all his anger to it and the man who sat on its throne. 

-

Marik hadn’t expected the Emperor’s plan to work so quickly. In fact, it was working too quickly. 

“We’ll need to stop, Your Majesty,” she reported to him after she had seen to Sael. She’d given him a minor sleeping draught, one of the many she had. 

“Stop? The whole thing?” 

“Just momentarily. If we continue, we run the risk of draining him completely.” 

Emperor Savön did not look pleased by this idea, but he flitted his fingers, as if agreeing to it. “Yes, yes, all right. No more for the time being. But how do we know if it’s worked?” 

Marik licked her lips. “We will have to test him, Your Majesty. Perhaps it’s time the Vek of Worlen had a word with his son. The real Vek of Worlen.” 

For a second, Marik thought Savön would flick away the request like a gnat trying to get at his food. Then, a look of good humor spread on his face. 

“Yes, I suppose it’s time I contacted old Lüxen as well.” 

-

The Vek of Worlen’s gaze stretched out over the plain. A caravan had been spotted that morning and now Worlen watched as the nearly twenty carts snaked up the streets toward Harleh Keep. 

Seffni was beside him, but his gaze wasn’t on the the line. It was directed past the plain, westward. 

“But how do we know that this isn’t just some trick of the Emperor?” 

“I’ve sent my personal vönan to inspect the phials. We’ll know soon enough.” 

“Snidmut?” Seffni snickered at the name. 

“Do I need to remind you, Dekan of Harleh, of the proper amount of respect that must be paid to a vönan-makek?” 

Seffni’s snickering ceased. “No, Father.” 

Worlen grit his teeth. If the Emperor was lying, if this all was a trick, he would have his head. 

“What of the reports of plague?” 

“I’ve already banned trade from a village in the northeast,” Seffni said, looking rueful. “At least a sixth of the villagers there seem to have come down with it.” 

Worlen waited. He knew Seffni had more to say. 

Seffni began, tentatively this time. “I’ve also tried to send a group of ömem there, to see to the villagers, but they refused to put themselves in danger. The best I could do was send some tadu there with their healing droughts.” 

Worlen cleared his throat. “After they’ve been inspected, see to it that some phials are sent to that village. You’ll need to find an estimate of the population there.” 

“Your Lordship! Your Grace!” A cry broke out behind him. Worlen turned around. A maid was running to them. Her face was red from exertion. 

“Tamod?” Seffni seemed just as surprised as Worlen was. “Is something the matter with Lady Tanum?” 

Tamod stopped right before them, and took a moment to catch her breath. “Well, you see, Your Lordship…” 

-

Sael wrenched his eyes open. For a second, his vision refused to cooperate. He saw many figures floating around, and thought he was dreaming again, until the figures morphed into just one. 

“How are you feeling, Your Highness?” An ömem stood at his bedside. She wore a silk dress in the style of the ladies of the court, but her hair was not done up at all. It didn’t matter. She was one of the most beautiful woman Sael had ever seen. She reminded him of his mother, although it was hard to say why. Her hair and eyes were different, and yet she seemed to hold herself with the same grace and confidence of a lady of high birth. 

“What happened?” 

“You collapsed while exploring the city, Your Highness. Your guard took you back here.” 

“Where’s Koreh and Master Geilin?” 

“There was only one horse. They’re returning now.” 

Sael didn’t doubt her words. She had the Sight, and if she were here in the palace, she must be one of the most powerful ömem in the country. 

“My name is Marik, Your Highness.” She bowed to him. “I am the Emperor’s chief ömem. He sent me here to care for you personally.” 

“That was nice of him,” Sael managed to say. “His Majesty has my thanks.” 

He tried to sit up, but a haze of dizziness wavered before his eyes. 

“No, you must rest for now, Your Highness.” Marik pushed him gently back into the pillows. “You overexerted yourself today.” 

“How could I? I didn’t do anything strenuous.” He’d done far worse things than walk around in a city. 

“Tell me, Your Highness, have you been sleeping well?” 

Sael thought back to the horrible dreams. “No.” 

“Sometimes the body has a weird way of making up for its lack of sleep.” She plucked the covers and put them up to Sael’s chin. “Rest now, Your Highness. You body needs sleep.” 

Sael’s eyes grew heavy at her words, and he wondered if it was some kind of spell of hers. 

He woke later. This time, he was able to push himself up against the pillows. His doors were closed but he saw a lip of light at their base and heard murmuring from behind it. He still felt woozy, but he managed to stand and use the bed as a support to guide him enough to open the doors. 

“Sael!” Koreh hopped off his seat and rushed over to him. 

“Easy there!” He said, as Sael started to stumble. Koreh held him up and supported him by the shoulder. 

Geilin and Marik were in the main room as well. It seemed Sael had just interrupted a conversation they were having. Koreh led him to a seat and sat him down comfortably. 

Marik leaned toward him. “How are you feeling, Your Highness?” 

“A little better,” he said. “Thank you.” 

“Lady Marik was just telling me about how you were missing sleep.” 

“Yes.” Sael held his head. “I suppose I was and didn’t realize it. Sorry to worry you all.” 

Koreh looked at him incredulously, but Geilin only closed his eyes. “It’s understandable. This is the farthest from the East you’ve ever been.” 

Sael bit his lip. Perhaps that was where the dreams had come from. They were his doubt, his homesickness, manifesting in terrible ways. “I’ll try to be more mindful of that.” 

“It appears he’s in good hands.” Marik gave a soft smile. “I must take my leave now, but alert a messenger if his condition worsens.” 

After Geilin had seen Marik out, he returned to a chair, facing Sael. Koreh had been shifty eyed the whole time Marik was in the room, but Sael saw him relax once she left. 

“Is it true, Sael? Have you really been missing out on sleep?” 

Sael couldn’t deny it. “I’ve been having nightmares.” 

“I see.” Geilin’s head titled to the side, as if considering this information. 

Koreh spoke up. “You had us worried sick!” 

“I apologized, didn’t I?” 

“Yeah.” Koreh came near him. He felt warm. “Just don’t do that again.” 

Sael saw Geilin’s eyebrow perk up, but the man kept his silence. 

“Get off of me,” Sael barked. “I’m not an infant. You don’t need to coddle me.” But even his sharp words seemed to have lost their force. He did enjoy having Koreh near him. If an ömem was looking, Koreh would just seem like a servant fretting over his master. After a few ‘I’m fines’, Koreh finally scooted away from him. 

“Perhaps it is a good idea that Koreh look after you tonight,” Geilin suggested. He still seemed to be thinking about something. “I’m tempted to myself.” 

“There’s no need, Master Geilin. I’ll be fine.” 

“So you say.” But the man seemed unconvinced. 

“Fine,” Sael finally said. “Koreh can look after me.” He felt like a toddler with all this attention. 

“Very well, I’ll check up on you in the morning. In the meantime, why don’t you try to eat something.” He motioned toward a silver tray on the table. 

“What time is it?” Sael didn’t think he’d been asleep for that long. 

“Time to sleep.” Geilin rose and stretched. “Once you finish eating, you should go to bed.” 

“Yes, Master.” 

When Geilin left, Sael enjoyed a quiet dinner of seafood chowder. At least he was sure the palace wouldn’t serve ghusat pieces to him. 

Still, it didn’t taste as good as it should have.

“Don’t like the food, little lord?” Koreh seemed to have noticed his less than enthused expression. 

“It’s just that the ghusat stew was a little tastier than this.” 

Koreh tried to hide a satisfied smile. And failed. “Really?” 

“Yes.” He stared down at the bowl. “Needs more ghusat.” 

Koreh laughed, an unhinged and honest chuckle that incorporated his whole body. Sael found himself laughing at it, too. 

By the time Koreh led him to bed, Sael didn’t want to sleep anymore. He’d lost the day sleeping. 

Koreh, however, lost no time stripping off his clothes. 

“W-what are you doing?”

“What? This is how I normally sleep.” He was completely naked now and the sight of him made Sael want to… want to… he wasn’t sure what, but he knew it wouldn’t be decent. 

Even more disconcerting was that Koreh was now tucking himself under the cover of the bed. His bed. 

“Now what are you doing?” 

“Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” 

Sael couldn’t think of a response that would get Koreh out of the bed, so he crawled in himself. 

“You better not kick me in your sleep.” 

“I’m not a kicker.” Still, something about his voice sounded less than innocent. 

“And nothing else, either!” 

“Yes.” Koreh’s grin seemed too wide for his face. “We have to preserve your maiden’s honor, after all.” 

“Shut up!” Sael turned away from him with such force that the bed shook violently. 

He waited for Koreh to say something, but nothing happened. 

“It’s true… what you say.” 

“Huh?” 

Sael turned back to face him. In the dark, Koreh was just a shadow. “About my honor. I… I haven’t… with anyone…”

He thought Koreh would tease him for this, but his voice was gentle. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“You think so? Seffni was three years younger than me when he started.” 

“It’s not a race, Sael.” 

Sael could feel his heart beating in his chest. It felt strange to hear his name on Koreh’s lips. “Have you ever…?” 

Koreh turned on his back and gave a little sigh. “I have.” 

“I see.” Sael tried to turn around again, much slower this time, but Koreh stopped him. His finger slipped under Sael’s arms and at once he was in an embrace. “But I didn’t love those people. Not even a little bit. I realized that later.” He could feel Koreh’s breath on his ear as he said it. He felt relived, but at the same time, like he fell short of something. 

“So that was your home,” Sael said, wanting to change the subject. “By the docks.” 

“Yep.” 

“You must have eaten fish everyday.” 

“When we could get our hands on it we did.” 

Koreh probably hadn’t eaten every day, and Sael felt like an idiot for not realizing that. “Oh, sorry. I forgot.” 

“It’s no problem.” Koreh squeezed him tightly. “Needed more ghusat anyway.” 

They both laughed, hard and deep, into each other’s arms. Sael felt himself edge closer to Koreh’s face until their noses were touching. 

“Do I kiss all right?” He asked as their giggles started to calm down. 

“What do you mean?” Koreh sounded breathless. 

“Like, does it feel as good for you as it does for me?” 

“You’ll have to remind me, little lord, what your kissing feels like. It’s been so long, I’ve nearly forgotten,” Koreh burst out melodramatically. 

“Like this!” Sael smacked his lips against Koreh’s collarbone. “And this!” His kisses trailed up Koreh’s neck and lingered around his cheeks. 

“C’mere,” Koreh said. His hand grabbed the hair at the back of Sael’s head and brought his lips against his own. Sael felt himself moaning. Koreh’s hand shot up under his shirt and rubbed his chest. 

Sael never wanted it to stop. Koreh’s kisses and touches were everything he’d wanted for so long. He kissed him until he was out of breath and then sucked in cool air and kissed some more. 

“So is it good for you?” Koreh asked. “Because it’s better than anything for me.” 

Koreh’s hand left his chest and shot between his legs. 

“N-no.” Sael pulled away. No doubt Koreh had felt his erection. 

The hand retreated. “Are you sure?” 

“Y-yes.” It was hard to say, harder than anything, but Sael knew he needed to. The curtains were drawn, but light was still in the room. He didn’t want the ömem to see this. He wanted this to be his, and his alone. “But soon.” 

Koreh wrapped his arms around him again and surrounded him with kisses. Sael couldn’t recall dreaming that night because everything had felt like a dream. Perhaps Koreh was his good luck charm, someone who could scare the nightmares away. 

Sael woke with a smile the next morning. Yellow light flitted from behind the curtains. Koreh had drifted off to the side, and Sael, for the first time since arriving in gü-Khemed, felt happy. He let the happy feeling wash over him as he observed Koreh’s back. There were scars, purple and angry red ones. They didn’t look like the sort of scars one got from sword fighting or out in the woods. 

Koreh turned and caught him looking. 

“How did you get these?” Sael traced the marks. They looked old, like they wouldn’t cause pain anymore. 

“The plague.” 

“You had it too?” 

“Yeah.” Koreh stared at the ceiling. “I survived.”  
-

Koreh noticed that Sael seemed healthier that morning and his mood also seemed to benefit from it. Sael was practically buoyant, and the was color back in his cheeks. Perhaps Sael’s previous condition hadn’t been the Emperor’s doing, after all. Perhaps he’d just exhausted himself because of the nightmares. Koreh doubted Sael had had any nightmares last night. He’d slept curled up next to him. Koreh only shoved him away when the Eye had started to rise. 

“You’ve taken remarkable care of him,” Geilin commented when he stepped into the room. His eyes lit up for a second, but it was enough for Koreh to know what the old vönan was thinking. 

“Just in case you’re wondering, Master,” Sael announced from halfway across the room, “I’ve remained chaste.” 

Geilin quirked his eyebrows. “Yes, but for how long?” 

It didn’t seem like the Emperor had rescinded his approbation, so Sael set out as early as possible, waving at the guards at the palace gate as he went. Koreh found Sael’s good mood infective. He almost wished that Sael would be like this all the time, but then, it just wouldn’t be Sael without an offhanded remark every now and then. 

“You sure are happy, little lord,” Koreh said. “I wonder what could have happened between yesterday and today.” He turned to Geilin. “Isn’t it curious, Master Geilin?” 

“Quite so. We’ll need to study the cause thoroughly.” 

“Nothing happened!” Sael was exacerbated. “Nothing!” 

Perhaps he’d only said that because Mendoz was in the vicinity, but Koreh stifled a laugh, and so did Geilin. 

They traveled much closer to home this time. Koreh had already been impressed by the academy’s library, but the place seemed to enamor Sael. His mouth hung at the row and rows of books, at the vönan floating above, and the artifacts lined against the walls. 

“It’s everything I ever dreamed it would be.”

Koreh laughed. “Isn’t it rude to leave your mouth open, little lord?” 

“Not now, Koreh, I’m having a moment.” 

Sael left that day with an armful of books. Some of them weren’t even what he’d been looking for, they’d only caught his eye. By the time they returned, it was nearly lunch. Koreh thought that Sael’s room was beginning to resemble the academy with so many stacks of books, but he didn’t want to dampen Sael’s good mood. 

There was a knock at the door shortly after lunch arrived. 

“Enter!” Sael called. 

Lady Marik stepped into the room. She was a beautiful woman, Koreh had to admit. Perhaps once he might have died to get her attention. But he kept his distance now. Ömem were always tricky. There power manifested inward, not outward like vönan, so Koreh was always cautious around them. He wasn’t sure if they could sense his Taaweh powers, and he didn’t want to find out. 

“You look well, Your Highness,” she remarked as she looked at Sael. 

“I had a good rest.” 

“Most excellent,” she said. 

Koreh thought the conversation was over, but then she added, “your father wants to speak with you.” 

“Father?” For the first time that day, Sael’s grin faltered. 

“Yes, come with me.” She gestured him out of the room. Once he was out, she said, “the Emperor requests that His Highness talk to his father in private.”

“Perfectly understandable,” Geilin said, although Koreh knew deep down he didn’t like it. 

Koreh didn’t like it either. Sael had just recovered and now they were being separated. 

Marik left and Koreh was left alone with Geilin. He looked at the vönan for some kind of sign, but he did nothing but roll his shoulders. 

“Like I said, Koreh. If he wanted to, he would have done so sooner.” 

Koreh had to believe him, but still, he didn’t like it. 

-

The palace’s sun room was a beautiful dome structure made of glass panels. Sael had frequented the sun room in Harleh when he was younger, always relishing the feel of light on his skin, and this gave him the same feeling. 

The Emperor was waiting for him there. 

“I hear you fell ill yesterday.” 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” 

“But it seems you’re better now. Marik is one of the best ömem in the country.” 

Marik inclined her head at the compliment. 

“Now then.” The Emperor spread his hands on his laps as if he were ready to get down to business. “I’ve sent word to your father’s ömem about talking today. Marik?” 

Marik looked up at the sky, but Sael knew she wasn’t looking so much at it than using her Sight to see Harleh Keep. 

“He is ready, Your Majesty.” 

“Well, then.” 

Her expression changed. It looked as if she medicating, focusing on something far away. 

“Good afternoon, Your Majesty. I hope this day finds you well.” It was strange to hear his father’s words said in Marik’s voice. There was little emotion attached to them, and yet Sael could still imagine his father inserting sarcasm wherever he could. 

“I am quite well.” 

“I understand, Your Majesty, that Sael is there with you.” 

“Yes,” the Emperor said. “Why don’t you speak to your father?” 

Sael faced Marik. She did not look at him and her trance did not break. 

“Hello, father.” 

“Have you been studying hard, Sael?” 

“Yes, father.” 

“I have some news Sael.” 

“News?” 

“Yes. Lady Tanum is pregnant.” 

The words stopped Sael cold. Lady Tanum pregnant? How long had he wished for such a thing to happen? Since Seffni had married Tanum, he’d nagged on them to have a child. He used to entertain thoughts of teaching it swordplay, just as Seffni had taught him. 

But things were different now. Would the Emperor still find him valuable if he was no longer the heir to Harleh? Would his father still feel stymied with another heir on the way, or would he make his move knowing his line was secured?

“That is wonderful news, Father.” Sael kept him voice in check. It felt as if he were playing a game and that the pieces he thought he could rely on had never been his in the first place. 

“Yes, most excellent news. You have my congratulations,” the Emperor said. He seemed more pleased than he should have.

“You are you most kind, Your Majesty.” Was the vek brimming with pride? He couldn’t tell from Marik’s voice. Perhaps he was frustrated about having to tell the Emperor the news. 

The Emperor took over the conversation after that. Sael couldn’t focus. His mind was reeling. A new heir to the tondekan of Harleh. The Menaük line would be secured. But he wasn’t sure what this meant for him.

“Lady Marik, does Sael not look pale to you?” 

The Emperor’s words brought Sael back to his senses. Marik was staring at him, her attention no longer focused on something far away. It appeared the conversation with his father was over. He hand’t even said goodbye. 

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Her attention turned to the guards stationed at the door. “Please escort His Highness Sael back to his room.”

He bowed quickly to the Emperor and followed the guards back to his room. Sael desperately wanted to feel happy but a dreadful feeling made that impossible. He pictured Seffni and Tanum overjoyed expressions, and even his father cracking a smile for once. But when he tried to imagine himself in that picture, he just couldn’t. He doubted he’d ever get to see the baby.


	10. Chapter 10

Sael sent for wine to accompany his dinner that night. The Emperor—or his representative—had excused him from the usual dinner routine, contending that his health still needed to improve.

Koreh wasn’t so sure. Sael had, after all, half-way drained the bottle.

“You seem to be in a good mood, little lord.”

Sael flashed him a snarky smile. “Try some.”

Koreh’s experiences with alcohol had never been pleasant, but he found himself accepting the proffered glass.

“To your nephew, or niece.” He held out the glass and they toasted. The wine was floral with a fleeting sweetness. Koreh wondered if bees tasted something like this every time they peeked into a flower.

“If only I could be there to congratulate them.” Sael’s words were melancholy, but his voice trembled with excitement. He then proclaimed that when the baby was old enough, he would teach it swordplay.

“Why don’t you practice right now then?”

“Practice?” Sael’s wide eyes shot up at him.

“You know, swordplay. You can try to teach me.” Koreh grabbed two pokers from the fireplace.

“I guess I could, couldn’t I?” He gladly accepted the poker and flicked it around to test its weight.

“Have you ever used a sword, Koreh?”

“Just a hunting knife.”

“That’s different.” Sael grinned smugly. “Now let’s see your stance.”

“No, like this!”

Koreh tried his best to imitate the stance.

“Bend your knees! Straighten your back!”

After about two dozen similar orders, Koreh felt as if he were being drilled by a general.

“No, not like that. Better. Better.”

The iron poker was heavy in his hand, and yet Sael didn’t seem to have a problem holding it.

“Now then,” Sael stepped back so that he was a few feet away from him. “Your primary goal will be to disarm me, or catch me off guard.” Sael lifted the poker so that it touched Koreh’s own and made a cross. “You’ll want to maneuver the blade—or poker—like this.” Koreh felt Sael’s poker press against his own. Within a second, his poker was at his side and Sael’s was pointing at his chest.

“Let’s try, shall we?”

Sael stepped back again. “Ready? One, two, three!” Sael launched at him, his footwork faster than Koreh had been anticipating. He caught the poker with his own just before it dove into his chest, and tried to flick it away just as Sael had shown him. It wasn’t easy, however. Sael kept their pokers locked and used the momentum to aim at Koreh’s stomach next. He just had time to back away before Sael’s poker touched him.

“Not bad.” Sael spun his poker around. Koreh noticed Sael’s liveliness hadn’t gone anywhere. He was still as energetic as when they’d visited the academy earlier that day. But his excitement didn’t seem boundless anymore, it seemed refined and his eyes were focused deadly sharp.

They continued for a few more rounds. Koreh lost all of them, but it wouldn’t be long before he could start anticipating Sael’s patterns. Just as Sael spun their pokers out of their lock, Koreh lunged in. Sael was quicker than that, however. He caught again and brought both pokers up. Koreh tried to bring his poker down, but Sael pushed off his feet. The force was enough to send the poker flying out of Koreh’s hand and sent Koreh tumbling to the ground. He backed over into a pile of books and the mess of upended pages caught his fall.

Sael looked at the hole the poker had made in the wall and then back at Koreh. His lips started to tremble and then he was laughing uncontrollably.

Koreh didn’t think Sael should drink anymore, but he imbibed a few sips of wine as he and Koreh arranged the books back into an orderly stack.

“Don’t do that with the baby,” was all Koreh could say.

Another opportunity for sword fighting came a few days later. The Emperor’s son, along with his ever-present eunterage, was walking the halls when he spotted Sael. The two conversed merrily, and they seemed to be fast friends. Tull invited Sael to show him his technique that afternoon.

Koreh didn’t know how to feel about this. Sael seemed happy enough about the invitation, but Koreh wasn’t so sure if the should become chummy with the Emperor’s progeny.

“Don’t you think it’s odd how he’s being so nice to you?”

“What’s odd about it?” Sael picked at the lunch that had been delivered to the room.

Koreh didn’t feel like having to explain himself again. They’d only just had a close call a few days ago, and Koreh wasn’t completely convinced that the Emperor hadn’t been the cause of Sael’s sudden fall.

“It’s just…”

Sael quirked an eyebrow. “Are you jealous?”

Koreh frowned. “No, of course not.”

A small smile formed on Sael’s lips. “Are you sure? Your cheeks are pink.”

“Jealous isn’t the word.” Koreh was frustrated, but he didn’t think he could tell Sael that. Since that night, he hadn’t so much as touched Sael. He hated having to ground out his passion alone in the servant’s bed. But enough of that, he couldn’t be thinking about that now. “Just, what will happen if the Emperor’s son wins?”

Sael gave him a sharp look. “A Menaük doesn’t lose.”

-

Tull looked as if he’d been preparing for the match for more than just a day. He arrived at Sael’s door in the soft armor the guards usually trained in. Sael had dressed similarly, but Tull’s outfit sported finery and buckles and straps that were of a much higher quality than his. He also brandished a flashy sword with a gold and black hilt at his side.

“Your Highness?” Sael hadn’t expected Tull to come personally.

“I’ve come to escort you to my rooms. His Majesty forbids me from practicing in the training ground.”

“I-I see.”

A guard came forward and held out a black sash.

“Forgive me, Sael, but His Majesty also requests you travel to my rooms blindfolded.”

He could feel Koreh shirking beside him, but Sael didn’t think the practice was anything unusual as far as the Emperor was concerned. He allowed the guard to blindfold him and was led to Tull’s rooms.

The Emperor’s son enjoyed the lavish lifestyle his Father had. Sael found that Tull’s rooms were decorated with the utmost attention to detail. Paintings of dominating figures hung on the walls which could have been works of art themselves. Tabletops gleamed, the wood shining like glass, and even the simplest ornaments that adorned the shelves were studded in precious jewels.

“This way, Sael.” Tull guided him through the fineries and disappeared behind a glass door. Sael walked out onto the balcony and gasped.

It was the same one from his dream. He saw the view of the city as he had, this time in the day. The rooftops glistened in the strong afternoon light. Beyond that he could see the ocean and its horizon was nearly indistinguishable from where it met the sky.

“It is a breathtaking view.” Tull seemed to noticed his awe.

“Y-Yes it is, Your Highness.”

Preparations for the duel commenced shortly after that. Sael chose a stunning silver rapier from Tull’s collection. It had good balance, although he missed the familiar weight of his old sword. The Emperor, of course, had forbidden him to enter the palace armed, but that hardly mattered as his sword was now property of thieves in Old Mat’zovya.

Tull drew his sword. The blade was a long and elegant one, simply shaped but of exceptional craftsmanship. Sael had never seen such a shape before.

“This has been in the Nesharr family for generations. They say it was brought from beyond the ocean.”

“Beyond the ocean?”

“Yes.” Tull nodded. “Years ago, this kingdom traded with the countries beyond the ocean. For some reason, trade was stopped. When I am Emperor, I hope to open trade with those countries.” His eyes flashed to Sael. Only now did Sael see the resemblance Tull had to his father. His face was rounded from boyishness, not age, but it was still strong. His dark eyes betrayed nothing. “Of course, I’d also like to open trade with the Eastern Kingdom again.”

“May the Gods favor your future reign.”

Tull held up his blade. “Shall we?”

The match began in earnest, each of them trying to score a point. Sael loved the feeling of light on his skin and the sound of their swords clanging in the mellow afternoon.

He returned to Koreh still bursting with the excitement of the duel.

“So did you win?” he asked.

“It was a draw.”

Koreh rolled his eyes. “Tch. Figures.”

“Like you could have done any better.”

“Believe me, I’m happy for you, little lord.”

-

Sael looked at him briefly. His cheeks were still dusted pink from the duel, from here it looked as if he were blushing.

“The Eye of Druma is shut tonight.” A mischievous look slid over his face.

“So I’ve heard.” Koreh, of course, had been keeping track of the Eye’s phases since he’d been in the forest. Tonight might be his chance to talk to the Taaweh again. Perhaps they knew what sort of creature had been in the palace. Or else, he could uses his powers freely to find it for himself. The ömem’s Sight would be blinded tonight.

However, it seemed as if Sael had other plans. Koreh didn’t mind those prospects either.

“Shall I prepare your bath, Your Highness?” Koreh bowed to him, in mock imitation of the valet he was pretending to be.

“Yes.” Sael narrowed his eyes. “And why are you acting like that?”

Koreh gave a half-smile. “I’m not the only one acting strangely.”

-

The dinner was an extraordinary one tonight. The pheasant was trussed up with the finest herbs and the wine flowed from the serving staff’s carafes as if it were water. The Emperor had spared no expense, especially when it came to the heavy guard the lined the hall and walkways.

A noble had to be careful when the Eye of Druma was shut. It was the perfect time for samöt to strike. No wonder everything was so tasty. Some of the nobles intended to stay in the dining hall and not sleep at all.

But Sael couldn’t sit still. He knew Koreh would be waiting for him in his room, and his body was aching for his touch.

Finally, finally, the dinner celebrations ended. Some nobles had taken to the daybeds to indulge, but Sael said his pleasantries and marched back to his room.

Koreh was waiting for him, as he knew he would be.

He hadn’t anticipated, of course, how Koreh would be waiting.

For once, Koreh’s outfit was impeccable. He wore the usual liveries of a valet, right down to the gloves. He also head a fireplace poker in his hand.

“Just what are you doing?” Sael was too excited to be tired.

“I thought we’d have a little duel, little lord. After all, if the Emperor’s son requests a rematch, we can’t have a draw again.”

Sael grabbed the other fireplace poker. “Very well, but I don’t think you’ll beat me.”

Koreh’s eyebrow shot up. “I don’t intend to.”

Each time Sael scored a point, Koreh took off a piece of his clothing. He caught him too many times at the chest, and Koreh was forced to strip out of his shirt, which had been the last piece of clothing he had on.

“You did this one purpose, you knew I’d win.”

“I knew,” Koreh nodded. “I just didn’t anticipate how quickly you wanted me out of my clothes.”

Sael laughed and fell into Koreh’s arms. The fireplace pokers were dropped and forgotten on the floor.

They stumbled into the bedroom. It was quiet, well after Manduccot. Sael’s arms touched every part of Koreh’s body. It was like they were dancing, every tangling limb losing balance and finding it again.

Koreh sat Sael on the bed and took off his boots and breaches first. The coat he worked on slowly, wending his fingers through buttonholes and feeling Sael’s shivering arms in his sleeves.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

“I’m sure.”

Koreh pulled the draw string of his undershirt. It opened rhythmically, unfurling around Sael like a blossoming flower. Sael sat on the bed, naked, no longer ashamed.

“Lay down,” Koreh whispered.

Sael obeyed.

He lay as straight as an arrow on the bed and felt Koreh deliver kissed all over him. His body flinched at first, but as Koreh grew more adamant, his body began to react in other ways. By the time Koreh reached his neck, Sael was aching to feel him against his lips and between his thighs.

“Please,” Sael gasped. He could feel Koreh’s erection buried in his thigh. “Please,” he said again as he grabbed it and held it to his own.

They touched each other, rubbing skin against skin, passion against passion. Koreh moaned his name and buried himself in his neck. Sael shook at the kisses and the feeling in his groin, growing more intense at each moment.

It felt as if he were going to burst. He’d never felt something like this before; even magic—the sensation of creating fire from his fingertips—didn’t feel as intense as this.

“Koreh…” Sael gasped. He wasn’t sure if he could hold himself any longer. Koreh’s fingers kept working, rubbing their erections together, and Sael never wanted it to stop.

“Ah, I’m going to—” Sael cried out as he came, spilling cum all over his and Koreh’s stomach.

“Sael,” Koreh moaned, and another warm stream flooded the skin at his stomach.

For a moment, Sael just lay there breathing in Koreh’s arms. He loved the way Koreh was holding him, as if he were made of dust and would blow away at any second. Sael felt like he was blowing away. All his energy was spent, everything was breath and heartbeat and sweat.

“I love you.” His voice was breathless.

“I love you too, little lord,” Koreh whispered into his ear.

And then Koreh was on him again, grinding on him as if he were an animal with some angry need. Sael didn’t stop him. He grabbed Koreh’s face and pressed his lips to it. He was newly spent, but he felt himself grow hard again as he thrust himself against Koreh’s thighs.

-

Sael ached and moaned beneath him. It was taking everything Koreh had to not spend himself all at once. He wanted this time to be slow.

He dipped his hips, teasingly close to Sael’s erection, but didn’t let the two touch. He felt Sael give an almost animal whine as his hips bucked with impatience.

“Not too fast, little lord,” Koreh chided. He slid off of him and snaked a hand under Sael’s back.

“Koreh?”

“Shh…” He pushed up against Sael until the both of them were on their sides and then pulled him in close. Sael’s hair was damp with sweat and Koreh found his hands spreading over his hair twirling around in those curls.

Then, he was pushing up the hair at the nape of Sael’s neck and pressing a kiss there. He felt Sael tense. Perhaps it was the kiss, or his erection pushing against his lower back.

“Please… Koreh…”

Koreh rolled his eyes.

Why is it so hard to say no to you?

He traced a hand down Sael’s chest using just his fingertips. Sael gasped as the touch moved closer to his groin. His fingers lingered there teasing, prodding, listing over Sael’s flesh.

“Just get on with it all ready.”

Koreh pumped vigorously, his fingers running over the veins. His thumb circled the head and Sael moaned deliciously.

“Yes, please, more.”

It wasn’t long before Sael came again, spilling over Koreh’s fingers.

He wanted to hold Sael all night, but his limbs seemed ungainly and eventually he rolled over on his back. Sael remained on his side. It seemed as if he were all ready asleep. Koreh lifted the covers over Sael’s naked body. He looked peaceful in his sleep, such a far cry from the mouthy nobleman Koreh had first met.

Sael’s sleeping face reminded Koreh of his siblings: something to love, to protect. They’d all been so young when they’d died. He’d never let something like that happen to Sael. He’d fight against it to the bitter end.

“Iinyeh Koreh…” Koreh turned around. His eyes focused on the deepest shadows, and there he found a stooped figure in a hooded robe.

“What is it?” Koreh whispered.

“Come, Iinyeh Koreh.”

The Taaweh began to melt into the floor and Koreh had to leap across the room to grab hold of him. He hated to leave Sael now, but he promised himself he'd be back before the boy even noticed. 

They slipped through the floor and into the earth. Koreh felt the unnatural sensation of the ground closing up around him and reminded himself that there was no need to breathe.

The Taaweh shot up seconds later and Koreh gasped for breath, as if he’d been underwater. Once the breaths came steadier, he studied his surroundings. The Taaweh had led him to one of the palace’s gardens.

But why here? Koreh thought. Wouldn’t there be guards crawling all over the place. The Taaweh, meanwhile, had walked a few paces forward. It stood over a mound of shadows. No, Koreh realized, this was no mound.

He rushed to the Taaweh’s side and examined the shape. It was a young man. His head rested in a dark pool of liquid.

Blood.

“Quick!” Koreh whispered to the Taaweh. He touched the body, his fingertips lighting up with blue sparks. The light spread through the body, but it remained still.

“Aren’t you going to help?” He turned around, but the Taaweh had vanished.

“Hello?” He whispered.

“Stop! You there!” A shout rose up from his left. Fire flickered, illuminating the grass around him.

Koreh bit his lip. He needed to escape now. There was no saving this boy. He’d been dead too long.

The ground rushed up over him just as the light poured over the body. Koreh got one last glimpse of the Emperor’s son dead, unseeing eyes, and then he was moving through the darkened earth again.

-

Sael rolled over, intent on finding Koreh. His hand shot out, searching the bed for the boy. What he found was a warm spot, but there was no trace of Koreh in the bed. Sael sat up.

Where could Koreh have gone?

His first thought was that Koreh had simply gotten out of bed to relieve himself. Now that he thought of it, Sael also felt his bladder’s protests. A candlestick was still burning at his bedside. He quickly donned a nightshirt, looped his fingers around the stick’s handle, and crept out the bedroom.

Everything was completely dark and the candle’s mediocre light did little good. Sael felt his way around the room to the bathroom, knocking over a few stacks of books in the process.

But that room, too, was also empty. Just to make sure, he checked the servant’s room. No Koreh popped out from the dark, ready to make a brazen remark.

Sael returned to the main room. Had Koreh been called away by someone? No, that wasn’t possible, as Sael would have likely woke up too at the intrusion. Perhaps he’d stepped outside for a bit? That didn’t seem likely either; he’d known the palace was riddled with guards tonight. Maybe he’d disappeared through the ground. That seemed the most likely possibility in Sael’s mind. But why? What had been so important to pull the boy away from him?

The door swung open and for a second Sael entertained hope that it was Koreh. There’d been no knock. However, he had no time to think as his room was filled with a dozen guards. Mendoz wasn’t among them.

“Sael dönz Menaük, you are under arrest for the suspected murder of His Highness, Tull dönz Nesharr,” the guard intoned. “May he be honored in the Great Hall.”

Hands rushed him from all directions. There was nowhere they didn’t touch him. His nightshirt was ripped away as they swung iron cuffs around his wrists and legs. A gag was stuffed into his mouth and Sael nearly choked at the forceful insertion. Still, he did not kick or scream or yell. It was all he could do to maintain his pride as they hauled him naked down the halls.


	11. Chapter 11

In the end, it was the Stronni’s love of the Perfect Order that kept Sael from being executed that night. High Lord Chancellor Djalleh, roused from his sleep, looked over Sael with a contemptible look of pity and unyielding respect for the laws.

“There must be a trial!” The old man held his ground, leaning heavily on a shaky, wooden staff.

“His Majesty requests a swift and just punishment,” a guard said, trying to move Djalleh out of the way. A sword large enough to cut through Sael’s neck was in his hands.

“Yes, yes, swift, but also just. A trial must be done. The Imperial Charter of the Seventh Dynasty clearly indicates—”

“Fuck the charter!” The guard was coming, blade about to swing down.

“Wait!” Djalleh shrieked. He held up his arms and his staff tumbled to the ground. “There must be a trial! If not, we risk open war with the Eastern Kingdom!”

The arc of the blade slowed. “And what do I care about the Eastern Kingdom? Kill the little cunt now and send his head to his daddy.”

The man swung the sword up. His eyes focused on the line of white neck, partially obscured by golden curls.

“Then would you defy the Gods?” Djalleh’s voice was deep and solemn this time. There was none of his panic from earlier.

The blade’s arc slowed for a second time.

“Defy the Gods? How?”

“Our Gods hold the Perfect Order in the highest esteem. To go against the Gods is to condemn one’s self to an eternity of the Gods’ scorn.”

At last, the sword was withdrawn.

Meanwhile, Sael was trying to make sense of everything. Tull was dead? How could such a thing happen under the Emperor’s vigilant eye? And why had Sael been accused of his death? Surely the Emperor wouldn’t sacrifice his only son to legitimize Sael’s execution.

That just wouldn’t make sense. Sael knew there was someone else involved, someone who had found the perfect night and the perfect suspect to thrust suspicion upon.

And he still had no idea where Koreh had went. Had Koreh killed the Emperor’s son? Did everyone think it was Sael who had instructed him to do it?

No… Koreh wouldn’t murder someone like Tull, no matter how deep his hatred for the Emperor was.

But why had he disappeared? Had he really been samöt after all?

Sael tried to wriggle into a more comfortable position. The stone floor was torture on his knees. He managed to turn on his side, the chains clinking as he pulled against the wall they were anchored to. From this vantage point, he could see Djalleh locked in a deadly staring contest with the guard.

They were finally interrupted when the door opened with a resounding creak. A vönan swept in flanked by two young men. They stared at him with neutral expressions. Sael was once again made aware of his shame and tried to cover himself as best he could.

“Master Fovya and his apprentices shall guard him.” Djalleh raised an eyebrow at the guard. “I trust you have no complaints.” The guard shook his head. It seemed he had grown tired of quarreling. He took a seat on one of the hard wooden chairs and seemed to relax.

“And you.” Djalleh’s gaze now passed over Sael. “I suggest you get some rest. His Majesty requests a swift trial. A verdict will likely be made before Namom. Should you be found guilty, your lands and titles will be stripped and you will be executed. Your body will hang at the city’s gates for three days, after which time it will be burned and scattered away, never to be returned to your family, in accordance with the laws of treason set forth by Emperor Sedez dönz Kredeh of the Fifth Dynasty…”

His voice droned on, a history lesson in itself, but Sael wasn’t listening anymore.

Sael wasn’t afraid to die, but he didn’t want to die for this.

-

“What are we doing here?” All Koreh could see was sand and the stars suspended in the sky above.

The Taaweh was next to him, but it seemed the old man only wanted to stare up at the stars.

Koreh had planned to warn Sael about the Empeor’s son, but as he traveled through the darkness of the underground, a voice had called, “this way, Iinyeh Koreh, this way.” He followed it, zigzagging at impossible speed, until he breached the ground and found sand in his mouth.

“I need to get back to Sael,” Koreh continued. “I need to tell him what happened.”

Koreh knew he could leave at any moment. The Taaweh didn’t seem as if he would stop him if he did try to go, but Koreh knew there had to be a reason the Taaweh led him here.

He felt it moments later, a flaring pain on his ankle. His head whipped downward as he screamed out. A snake was burrowing its way back into its hole, its curiosity about Koreh’s limb sated.

He ankle throbbed and searing pain crept up his leg to every part of his body. It felt hot, as if body had been thrown into a fire while still alive.

Koreh turned pleadingly to the Taaaweh. Did they just intend to let him die here?

He was on his knees before he knew he’d fallen. Doubled-over in pain, he wished the Taaweh would just end it all ready.

“Like this, Iinyeh Koreh,” he heard a whisper, although he couldn’t tell where it was coming from. His eyes were clamped shut and he was beginning to shiver. The searing heat had given way to searing cold.

Then, like water slipping out a sieve, the pain fell away. His body calmed and his breathing slowed. He stood once again and looked down at his ankle. It was the same as it always had been, although there were two tiny holes where the snake’s fangs had been.

“H-how did you do that?”

“This way.” The Taaweh’s hands glowed with bluish light. Koreh imitated his movements, as if following the movements of a stream through the air.

The pain came as suddenly as it had before. Koreh watched as the snake burrowed back into its hole, his entire leg now inflamed. Again, the shock set in, heat wrapping around his body as if he’d been thrown into a furnace.

Koreh didn’t focus on the pain. He focused on the venom itself that was working its way through his veins. In one graceful hand movement, he stopped the streams of venom, and then he pushed the liquid out. It was a slow process, but eventually the pain subsided, as if it had never been there at all.

Sweat drenched his forehead by the time he finished. “All right,” he said as he tried to catch his breath. “I get the point. We don’t have to do that again.”

The snake didn’t appear for a third time.  
-

The Emperor’s eyes were rimmed with red, and there was a gray sullenness to his expression. It was as if an artist had sketched a likeness of the Emperor, leaving in all the grays and blacks of shading and shadow. Only when Sael looked into the man’s eyes did he recognize the stateliness and strength that could silence the audience chamber with a single look.

Master Fovya had given him simple clothing to wear, which Sael was thankful for if nothing else. The chains had come off for just the dressing, and Sael had seen the purple and red brought on by their weight.

He hadn’t expected the trial to be held in the audience chamber, nor the Emperor himself to be in attendance.

It had started off solemnly. Most of the nobles had disappeared, likely to the temple to mourn over Tull’s body. The crimes he was accused of were laid out in a prolonged speech by Djalleh himself, as well as the punishments for those crimes. Throughout this, Sael caught Geilin looking at him. The man gave Sael a sympathetic look, although his mouth remained in a thin line.

It was the Emperor’s words, however, that surprised Sael the most.

“I am doubtful of Sael dönz Menaük’s guilt pertaining to this particular matter. Let us hear the testimony and rule out his involvement with all due haste.”

The guards, of course, confirmed Sael and Tull’s duel, although it hardly sounded like a motive for murder. Mendoz was back and could neither confirm nor deny that Sael had left his room that night.

“And what of the valet?” Djalleh asked the Head Guard, a man named Velön.

“We found him crouching over His Highness in the garden.” He was a handsome man with a closely-trimmed beard and dark hair and eyes. Sael wondered if Koreh would look like that when he got a little older, and wonder if he’d be there to see it. Probably not.

“It was a dark night,” Velön was saying. “The Eye was closed. How were you sure it was Sael dönz Menaük’s valet?”

“We knew. We know mostly all the other servants here and he wasn’t one of ours.”

“And what happened to the valet once you caught him in the garden?”

“He disappeared.”

“Disappeared?”

“It was as if he just melted into the darkness. We searched the garden for hours, and no one was allowed in or out of the palace’s compound.”

Sael listened intently to the rest of the guard’s testimony. So Koreh had been there last night. But where had he gone after that? It made sense he would leave after being spotted. Sael couldn’t blame him. How well would a peasant fair on trial for the murder of the sovereign’s son? As much as he would have liked to believe Djalleh’s ravings, he knew the only real reason he even had a trial to begin with was because he was the son of the second most powerful man in the country.

A gasp rose up in the room that broke Sael from his thoughts. The doors had swung open and two guards led a familiar figure before the dais.

“Koreh!” Sael whispered. He hadn’t even expected to say anything at all, but Koreh was here. He was here! And Sael didn’t want him to be.

What are you doing here, you idiot! Sael wanted to scream across the room. He wanted to see Koreh turn around and respond with a snippy comment of his own. But Sael held it all inside.

The truth was he didn’t know what to say.

Koreh confirmed Velön’s story, although he never said he killed Tull. It didn’t matter. The Emperor had his scapegoat and Djalleh had his Perfect Order. There was nothing left to be said. Koreh would be executed at Namom and his body would hang at the palace gates for three days, after which time his body would be burned and scattered to the Four Winds.

Shouts rose up in the chamber. Nobles spit on Koreh and their jeers peeled over Djalleh’s calls for peace. The guards pushed Koreh away, not caring when he almost tripped. Sael, too, was led away shortly after that. Djalleh and the others would need more time to decide his fate. For the time being, he’d be under heavy guard.

They didn’t take Sael back to his room. This one was smaller, but like his old one, a skylight dominated the ceiling. The guards stationed themselves outside of the door, but he knew an ömem would be watching with the light of Atnu.

For the first time that day, Sael allowed himself to cry. Why had Koreh done that? Why had he come back only to let himself be executed? Had he really killed Tull? Or had his confession only been a last defense to let Sael live?

Sael couldn’t figure him out. Nothing made sense anymore. Sael wanted Koreh back and his old life back but his future stretched thin and bleak in front of him.

He couldn’t even use magic anymore. Nothing was fair.

What his father said had been a lie.

The Gods didn’t have any mercy.

-

Koreh sat in the cell, a dark circular prison that reeked of piss. At least the guards hadn’t come in and demand he open his mouth and suck their cocks. Perhaps regicide did have its privileges.

Only, he hadn’t killed Tull. He’d never kill a child, even if that child was the son of the man he hated the most.

In fact, he felt terrible about not being able to save Tull. Had he been there any sooner, he might have been able to do something. Had the Taaweh known that he’d arrive too late? Had they been counting on it?

He had no way of knowing. He only knew that the Taaweh had helped him time and time again and had no reason to bring harm to him.

Why was this so hard then?

He knew why.

Sael.

Sael would no doubt be crying by now. He’d seen it in a dream, after all. Sael alone in that brightly lit room, unable to do anything, separated from his friends and family. If the Emperor had seemed unreasonable before, he’d be downright cruel now.

Koreh shivered. He wanted to move through the ground and comfort Sael. Koreh knew everything would by okay, but Sael didn’t. For all the nobleman knew, Koreh would be executed that evening.

“Iinyeh Koreh.” It was a whisper from the dark.

“I was wondering when you’d show up.”

This Taaweh was a young woman, her face obscured by a cowl.

“So where to?” He asked her casually. “The desert? The Emperor’s room? Sael’s room?”

He was desperately hoping for the last one. If it were up to him, he could just skirt Sael away from here, and the two of them would never have to look the Emperor in the eye ever again.

“Harleh Keep,” the Taaweh answered.

“Harleh?”

Just what would he do in Harleh? Granted, he knew one or two things he could do, such as alerting the vek to his son’s wrongful imprisonment. But why him? Couldn’t an ömem do that?

The Taaweh vanished through the ground just as his mind began to formulate these questions.

“So that’s how it’s going to be.” Koreh sighed. At least Harleh Keep would get him out of this dreadful city.

- 

The Vek of Worlen was thinking it was absolutely dreadful down here. The air was stale. It smelled of shit and disuse and ages of neglect. But mostly shit. The flies buzzed horrendously, and it was almost unbearable to hear them in such close quarters, their content vibrations creating a cacophony that threatened to tear the vek’s eardrum’s out.

“Just what am I supposed to see here?” Worlen’s patience had run thin. Snidmut was a powerful vönan, but his penchant for gregariousness was getting on the last of the vek’s nerves.

“Yes, yes. Right this way, Your Grace. As I was saying, our experiencements proved fruitful, but for whom is anyone’s guess. I was debating whether to use human subjects—really just criminals, I’d never use the law-abiding citizenry—when this happened. I had no idea what to do, so I came to you. Trusly, it is quite remarkable, and foreboding. I daresay that—”

“Just get to the damned point.” Worlen’s patience was thinner than the hairs at both side of Snidmut's temples.

“Well, you better see for yourself, Your Grace.”

Snidmut lit a candle. Within a few seconds, more lit candles lined the room, as if choosing to imitate the one in Snidmut's hand.

Worlen’s gaze now fell to the three ghet separated in pins. He’d never cared for the animals growing up; to him, they represented the peasant class that owned them: hardworking, but without much drive or initiative. Easily scared away by any fool wielding a sword on horseback.

But that wasn’t all that had caught his interest. Two of the ghet seemed absolutely fine, going about their business as if they were in a field and not in a darkened dungeon. The ghet in the farthest pin to the left, however, seemed to be faring far worse. It was on its side, moaning putridly. Black spots had erupted all along its flank.

“Is that…?”

“There is no doubt, Your Grace.”

The ghet was infected with plague. It was a wonder that the disease hadn’t spread to the other ghets all ready.

“We should leave this place, Your Grace. I’ve all ready informed the other vönan to have it burned.”

Worlen didn’t need any more explanation than that. He took the stairs, two at a time, until he was rid of the detestable place.

It was only when they were once again standing in the courtyard, the clouds tumbling along and blocking out the Eye, did they speak again.

“It seems, for every two phials that contain the cure, there is one that houses the disease itself. We’ve let plague through the front gates!”

“I’m aware of that,” Worlen grumbled out. He had no way of knowing why the Emperor had also sent the cure along with the plague, but that hardly mattered. The Emperor wanted to poison his city with disease. Worlen would have none of it.

“What should be done, Your Grace?”

Worlen looked out across Harleh Plain. It would be better to burn all the phials, but that wouldn’t stop the plague that was all ready encroaching on their city.

“Surely the ömem can differentiate between what is the cure and what is the plague.”

Snidmut nodded. With his huge nose, he looked like a bird pecking at the air. “I’ve asked Lady Thuna, of course. She says only a powerful ömem could determine the difference, and of course, it would take time with twenty cartloads.” This almost gave Worlen reason to hope. Almost. “But she refuses to put herself and other ömem in danger. Being surrounded by that many bottles of plague is too risky.”

Worlen bit his lip. “Damn.”

“He is right, of course, Your Grace.” Worlen almost jumped. Thuna’s voice had startled him, he hadn’t even heard her coming.

“Lady Thuna!”

She was an old, withered woman. Worlen remembered thinking she’d been old when he was only a dekan. Yet, however much her face grew older, her eyes only seemed to grow sharper and wiser. Those indomitable eyes now shot to him. “I would not risk contaminating myself with plague anymore than you would.”

“You’ve made your point clear.” He wouldn’t try to bargain with the ömem. Their loyalty couldn’t be bought.

“However, I am not here to argue about the plague. There is news from the capital.” Thuna divulged the death of the Emperor’s son and Sael’s trial.

“Sael’s valet did it?”

Thuna shook her head. “There is no way of knowing. The Eye was closed that night.” She too followed his gaze across the plains. “Even now, the Emperor’s ömem watch Sael with a close eye. One wrong move, and the Emperor could easily condemn him to the same fate as his valet.” She looked up at Worlen. “It goes without saying that you can’t make a mistake either.”

Damn Savön. He’d sent the plague to Harleh and would have Sael’s head if Worlen retaliated.

Worlen felt a clamp shut around his heart. Would he sacrifice the cure along with the plague? Would he sacrifice his son to get back at the Emperor?

The Vek of Worlen needed a drink. Something strong that would obliterate his better sense of reason. Maybe then he’d come to a solution. Or maybe he’d just drink brandy until everything felt numb.

“Your Grace!” A vönan was running toward him, his gold and white robes hiked up around his knees. “You must see this, Your Grace!”

The vönan was out of breath by the time he reached the vek. He told his story in clumps of rasping breaths and wheezing gulps of air.

Perhaps the brandy would have to wait.


	12. Chapter 12

No one had bothered to move Sael’s belongings into his new room. But even if they had, Sael wouldn’t have cared much. He didn’t need his clothing because there was nowhere to go. He didn’t need his books because he knew they wouldn’t take his mind off the possibility that Koreh was set to die in merely a few hours.

Have I truly been cursed by the Gods, he thought. It seemed like a silly thing to think about. He’d merely lost his powers; Tull had lost his life.

But perhaps Sael’s life wasn’t worth living anymore. He doubted the Emperor would allow him to return to Harleh now. He doubted the Emperor would allow him to do much of anything now.

He wondered if he’d continue to live this way until he died. How much longer did he have left? Father only had to lift a finger and the Emperor would find every reason to execute him.

Perhaps he should just end it now. Sael hated to make that choice, and his father would hate him for it, but wasn’t it better for everyone in the end? Then Father wouldn’t be under the Emperor’s thumb any longer.

Sael sighed. Servants had delivered lunch hours ago, but Sael hadn’t so much as picked at it. Now, he wrapped his fingers around the knife that accompanied the serving tray. It was a short, thin knife, barely sharp enough to cut through meat, but it could do. Sael knew it wouldn’t give him a short death, but he’d lose enough blood eventually—

A sudden knock at the door broke him from his thoughts. He let go of the knife and heard the sound of it clambering to the floor.

A moment later, Marik entered. She looked elegant in black satin and lace. A long train of gauzy lace followed her in.

“Your Highness,” she spoke softly. “The servants inform me you haven’t touched your food.”

Sael remembered the last meal he had had been the night before. He also remembered that an ömem didn’t need servants to tell her things.

“The Emperor has been concerned about you since the verdict. Surely you would not upset His Majesty at a time like this.”

Did the Emperor still care about his health? Why wasn’t he driving a sword through Sael at this very moment?

“How is Master Geilin?” Sael asked instead.

“He is overseeing His Highness’ vigil with the other vönan of the court. He has requested to see you, but the Emperor forbids any visitors for the time being except me, of course.” Marik’s smile held a secret. Sael couldn’t guess at what it was. He didn’t have the energy to.

“Lady Marik…” He wasn’t sure whether to think of her as friend or foe. She hadn’t done anything to harm him, and yet her allegiance to the Emperor was obvious. “I know Koreh couldn’t have done it.”

And yet maybe there was something she could do. She was the most powerful ömem, or so she said.

“The verdict has been read and all the evidence pointed to—”

“No!”

To be rude to an ömem was to risk one’s life, but Sael no longer cared much for it any more.

“No? Might you have some other evidence?”

“He was with me last night. In my bed.”

If she thought that was strange, she didn’t say anything. She’d probably witnessed many nobles engaging in such activities with their servants. “And yet he was in the garden as well,” she said.

“Maybe he was trying to save Tull.”

“A valet with no medical training? He can’t possibly be an ömem, and even an ömem couldn’t treat an injury like that.”

“I don’t know. It’s just…”

She placed a hand on his shoulder. “You are upset. It’s been a long day.” She seemed to think hard about something and then finally closed her eyes. She reached into her dress and withdrew a phial. “Here.” She closed it in Sael’s hand. “This will help you sleep.”

Having said this, she rose. Her dress followed her movements as if it were water, cascading around her in shining fabric. “Do not worry. It will not make you sleep forever. But it is strong.”

Then she was gone, slipping out of the doorway as if she had never been there at all. A lingering smell of perfume was the only trace left of her.

Sael inspected the phial. The liquid was milky. Had he still had his powers, he might have been able to tell how strong the spell was. But he didn’t. Like a commoner, he would just have to take her word for it.

He refused to take it, however, until after Namom. Only then would he truly know if Koreh had left this world. Only then would there seem like little point in living.

-

“Gone? How can he just be gone?”

Had Marik been a guard, she might have reminded the Emperor that the information about Koreh’s escape was not yet widely known, and bellowing it through the hallways was not the best way to preserve the peace. But she was not a guard, and so she kept her mouth shut.

“I want guards stationed all around the gates, and a company to search the palace as well! Search every room and see to it that Sael dönz Menaük is under heavy watch.”

“That matter has been seen to, Your Majesty,” Marik said as she inclined her head. She could See Sael now. The boy still gripped the phial in his hand, although he hadn’t drank from it yet. Marik knew it wouldn’t be long.

“Yes, of course.” The Emperor held his head in his hand. He looked grizzled and undone.

“Speaking of which,” she continued, “it would seem that tonight may be the opportune moment.”

The Emperor seemed to miss her meaning for a moment. Only after a few seconds did understanding come back into his eyes. “Yes, yes. I suppose it would be. I leave it to you.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

-

It wasn’t that Koreh had forgotten what to say. It was that the Vek of Worlen was scrutinizing him with such an intense glare that all the words had just fallen out of his mouth.

“And you’re telling me you cured this ghet of plague?” He gestured to the animal that was now chewing on hay, as if had never been sick to begin with.

“Yes, Sir, I mean, Your Grace.”

“So you used one of the cure phials to do this?” The vek didn’t chastise him for the monicker, at least.

“Well, no, Your Grace.”

“And so,” the vek said, pausing to emphasize Koreh’s logic. “You cured this ghet, which was on death’s doorstep, by the use of your own magic? Magic that you shouldn’t have, unless you are an ömem.”

“I’m just me, Your Grace. A boy.”

“This can’t be possible, Your Majesty!” A stoopy-looking vönan spoke up. “Not only should no one be in here except us, but there’s no such magic that would allow a peasant boy to cure an animal like that.”

“It seems, Master Snidmut,” the vek said, “there is.”

Koreh wasn’t sure if he was going about this the right way.

And then, the kicker.

“And aren’t you my son’s valet?”

Well, yes and no, Koreh thought to say, although he couldn’t very well say that to the vek. Instead, he only gave a vague nod.

“It seems odd that you’d appear at such a time, especially since you’re set to be executed at dusk.”

The man was sharp, Koreh would give him that. Still, he was the only person in the way of Harleh’s destruction or its salvation.

“I can save Harleh,” Koreh said unapologetically. He didn’t care if the vek banished him afterward. He didn’t care if he’d be imprisoned for it. Harleh was important to Sael, and even the Taaweh knew it needed to be protected.

“Your Grace, this is highly irregular—,”

All it took was one look from the vek for the man to shut his trap.

“Show me,” said the vek. His smile broadened, but Koreh didn’t think that was a good thing.

-

The Eye of Atnu sunk beneath the sea and Sael tasted the bitter aftertaste of the sleeping tonic. At first, he didn’t feel anything. How could he feel when the most important people in the world had been ripped from him? Sael had given up on feeling bad for himself. Instead, he felt nothing at all.

Then it hit him hard—Koreh was dead. He’d been the boy Sael had fallen in love with, the only person Sael had ever fallen in love with. Sael wasn’t even sure what that ind of love was.

He loved his father, and Seffni, and Tanum, but that was a different kind of love brought on by closeness and duty. He loved them, because each in their own way, had loved and cared for him.

Just not anymore. He’d only been away a few weeks but it all ready felt like years since he’d been in Harleh Keep. Why hadn’t they protected him fiercely? Why hadn’t his father defied the Emperor?

Perhaps he was the most replaceable, the weakest link the chain. The vek needed to rule Worlen and the East. Seffni needed to govern Harleh. Tanum needed to be at Seffni’s side and produce an heir.

What did they need Sael for? He’d refused the tondekan. He wasn’t even good for magic anymore.

A hopeless feeling spread over him.

Koreh hadn’t cared about that. Koreh had only cared about what was best for him, no matter how many times Sael had tried to push the boy away.

What had his pushing ever solved? Koreh had always come back with more intensity. The way his eyes flared when he fired back a witty observation, the way his pink lips made a sort of crooked smile when he knew he won—

The memories were coming all back at once, as if they were hands dragging him down into his sadness. He’d never see Koreh again.

Tears came, quicker, fiercer, than he thought they would.

“My dear boy…”

Sael’s head shot up. Geilin was standing in the doorway. He looked exhausted, the bags under his eyes drooping heavily.

“Master Geilin!” He tried to wipe the tears away, and yet something about Geilin’s expression made them fall harder. “W-what are you doing here? I thought the Emperor—”

“The Emperor has no control over the vönan and least of all me.” He stood in the doorway, looking skittishly around. “Still, I can’t be here for long. Your guards are down the hall, analyzing a slight disturbance.”

“But the ömem!”

“They’ll keep quiet, I’m sure. They’re not any more loyal to the Emperor than I am.” He gave a quick smile.

“Oh, Master Geilin! I… I…” He ran up to his master and gave him a hug. The old man was warm in his arms.

“You must cheer up, Sael. I have good news.”

Sael looked at him disbelievingly. There was no good news, short of being allowed to leave, and Sael doubted not even the greatest wizard in the kingdom could grant him that.

“What is it?”

“Koreh’s escaped.”

The two words sounded unbelievable.

“But… how…?”

Knowing the Emperor, they’d put Koreh in the deepest, darkest dungeon they could find. There was no escaping from something like that.

Or was there?

He remembered how he’d escaped from the thieves. Had Koreh used the same magic?

“No one knows how, but a few have their suspicions. They’re saying he’s samöt, although the ömem vehemently refuse.” Geilin looked to the side, his gaze flitting out the door. “They’re coming back now. Don’t give up hope Sael. I’ll see you when I can.” He ruffled Sael’s hair, something he hadn’t done since he’d been 12. “It’ll be difficult to see you again, but I’ll try whatever means I can.” With that, he floated up, closing the door as he went.

Sael caught his message. He returned to his chair and tried to look as morose as possible. The guards checked him shortly afterward. Sael tried his best at the fake sobs, that turned into giggles as soon as they shut the door.

Koreh had escaped! He was still alive. Sael wanted to dance around the room, but he didn’t think that would be the best idea. Instead, he relaxed. A thought sailed across his mind, like he’d forgotten something very important. But what could it be? And what could it matter? Koreh was alive!

Although the chair wasn’t the most comfortable thing he’d ever been in, he found himself sinking into it.

That’s right, he reminded himself, I took that sleeping tonic.

A dangerous thought erupted in his head. What if that conversation with Geilin had been a dream?

He tried to lift his arms but they seemed too heavy to move now.

No! It had to be real. Koreh is still alive.

Sael tried futilely to move his arms and legs, but nothing happened. It was as if he were made of lead. Even his breathing had become slower.

Please, don’t let that be a dream. Sael wasn’t sure who he was pleading to. The Gods hadn’t been kind to him lately, and neither had fate. I’ll take everything else, just not that.

He crossed over into the realm of sleep not long after that.

-

The vek had set Koreh to work at once. The cartloads were lined up in the cellar, and he was meant to go through them all, phial by phial. Guiding the magic through each one wasn’t too complicated, but Koreh found himself exhausted by the end of the first cartload. He’d never used Taaweh magic to such an extent, and his body screamed for sleep.

When he was finally led out of the cellar, the sky was black. The bottles of plague numbered around 50, and he transferred them to a crate. Shortly after, a vönan burned it and the gold sparks curled upwards to the sky.

Koreh caught his breath. He doubted he had enough energy to find his way to his bedroom. He assumed it was the same as the servant’s quarters.

However, Diven appeared suddenly and led him away from the servant’s entrance.

“Master Koreh, how good to see you well.”

“Master?”

“Yes.” The man nodded. “Any person with a magical proficiency is regarded with the proper respect.”

They traveled along the rigid walls of the keep and up spiral stairways. By the time they reached his new room, Koreh was aching for a bed of some sort. He would have even slept outside somewhere.

He hit the bed, not bothering to take off his clothing.

More than anything, however, he wanted Sael. He wanted to bring Sael back here so that they’d never have to think about the Emperor ever again. But he had no energy to do so, and even if he did go underground, he felt he might fall unconscious somewhere under the earth and never see the light of day again.

Tomorrow, then, he promised himself. Tomorrow he’d figure out some way to rescue Sael.

Still, the terrifying whisper came back just before he fell asleep: you can’t protect him from everything.


	13. Chapter 13

It was still dark when Koreh awoke to errant knocking at his door. He flopped on the mattress, barely able to make sense of his surroundings. From what he could tell, he’d had a deep, dreamless sleep. Not even the Taaweh had interrupted it.

But the knocking had.

Diven finally entered. A cloth was wrapped around his face.

“Master Koreh,” he said, his voice slightly muffled by the cloth. “His Grace requests to see you immediately.”

Koreh nodded dazedly. He didn’t need to dress, but he didn’t think he was presentable.

“Not now, Master Koreh,” Diven said when Koreh tried to make for the mirror.

So apparently the vek wanted him, presentable or not.

Again, Diven led him swiftly through the stone hallways of Harleh Keep. Most of the sconces were lit, but every now and then Diven would move across a deep shadow. Koreh couldn’t help but wonder if the Taaweh might jump out at him here.

As it happened, no Taaweh appeared before Koreh. Diven opened the door to a small room decorated with rustic and austere furniture. It was a refreshing change of pace from the palace’s opulence, but Koreh didn’t think he wanted to sit in the chair anymore than the rest of the people in the room. After all, the vek was making an uncomfortable expression, as were the vönan and other military officials at his side.

“Your Grace.” Koreh bowed.

“Master Koreh,” the vek’s voice intoned from across the table. “It has come to my attention that you did not murder the Emperor’s son.”

“N-no, Your Grace.”

“You are also not a valet.”

“No, Your Grace.”

“Y-your Grace, his magic is nothing we’ve seen before! He could be a demen for all we know," the stooped vönan all but shrieked. 

The vek gave Koreh a looking over. “Master Snidmut, I have never seen a monster quite like Master Koreh before.” His gaze sharpened. “However, it would benefit us to know the true nature of his powers.” The vek seemed to sigh, a long, drawn out sigh the encapsulated his whole body. “Unfortunately, we don’t have time for that.”

Koreh had guessed they’d called him here for some sort of emergency. After all, they’d all ready seen what his powers could do. It was only because they were pressed for time that they didn’t ask where his powers had come from.

“General Meik, I leave the debriefing to you.”

Koreh’s attention turned to an older gentleman to the vek’s right. He seemed the stern type, everything Koreh would think of when thought of a general.

“Soldiers posted in the keep were alerted to disturbances at about two hours before Manduccot. Residents complained of shattering glass and windows being broken. There seemed to be no pattern to these assaults. Every quarter of the city seems to have been affected.”

There was a pause in the room. Some of the men looked as if they were hearing this information for the first time.

“We also discovered that phials had been stolen from the carts.”

A muttering rose up in the room. Koreh couldn’t follow a single, frantic voice.

“Silence!” The vek articulated above the noise. At once, the voices in the room fell. “It seems,” said the vek, “the plague has been planted in Harleh Keep.” No longer were there whispers of concern, only a deep, foreboding silence.”

Meik nodded. “My guards reported figures moving through the night. Lady Thuna has also agreed: it was an attack by samöt.”

“Men!” The vek sounded with a commanding voice. “We must control this outbreak as much as possible. I want every person affected by the plague to be put under quarantine and administered the cure.” The vek’s gaze shifted to Koreh. “It seems we will need your unique powers more than ever, Master Koreh.”

Koreh took a deep breath.

“Dismissed!” At once, the men rose and left the small room. Some fixed cloths around their mouths, others seemed determined to go after the samöt, sword in hand.

Koreh turned to the vek.

“You, too, Master Koreh.”

“But what about Sael?”

Koreh’s question seemed to catch the vek off guard. “What about him?”

“I can get him out of there. I…”

“The city is on the verge of collapse and you’re needed here.”

“I…” It wouldn’t take long to save Sael, but Koreh knew he’d be too drained to work his magic on the phials by the time he returned. He'd have no energy left to cure the people affected by plague.

“What would Sael do in your place?”

Koreh knew the answer to that, too. He turned to leave.

“The Emperor may have a use for Sael. That man won’t kill him until Sael is no longer useful to him.”

Koreh wondered how long that would be.

-

The morning light played on Sael’s face as he woke. He couldn’t tell how long he’d been sleeping, but his limbs felt heavy and soft. The first thing he realized was that his stomach hurt; he hadn’t eaten in what felt like ages. The second thing he realized was that he was no longer in the chair he’d fallen asleep in. Someone had moved him to the bed. As much as he hated to think about someone touching him while he slept, he couldn’t help but feel grateful. His bones had none of the aches that might have been there had he stayed asleep in the chair.

A simple breakfast of fruits waited for him on the little side table next to his bed. He couldn’t tell how long it had been there, but his stomach rumbled and he pushed a mouthful of grapes into his mouth to appease it. He was also incredibly thirsty, and helped himself to the jar of water in a somewhat undignified way.

“You must be hungry, Your Highness.”

Sael’s eyes darted toward the door. Marik stood there, accompanied by a couple maids. The maids swiftly brought trays to his bedside of plates filled with heartier food than fruits.

“Lady Marik? What are you doing here?”

“Eat first.”

He hadn’t expected all this, least of all from the Emperor’s own ömem. Yet, he couldn’t complain. Sael was absolutely ravenous. He attacked the food, breads and cheeses and slices of smoked meats. Never had food tasted so good.

Only when his stomach felt close to bursting did he stop. Marik had kept a watchful eye on him the whole time, a slight smile playing on her lips, as if she were proud of his appetite.

“Thank you, Lady Marik.” Sael supposed he should have also thanked the maids who had brought the platters in, but they’d long since left.

“Your hunger could only be expected. You’ve slept for two days.”

“Two days?” Sael’s mind clamored to make sense of the information.

“Yes,” she said. Her smile was gone, but her eyes still held a gleeful glimmer. “That sleeping tonic was quite a powerful one. I did not think you would drink it all at once.” She pointed at the phial on Sael’s bed stand.

“I haven’t used them much in the past.” Sael felt like it was a stupid excuse, but the only one he could think of. Why hadn’t Marik told him it was that powerful?

“Although some of the fault does lie with me.” She looked down, as if staring at something on her wrist. “The Emperor requires stronger tonics these days and I’ve gotten out of the habit of making milder ones.”

“I overdid it,” Sael said to break her from her musing. “I knew better than to drink the whole thing.”

“They do not take many sleeping tonics in Harleh, I presume?”

“They don’t.” Even now, an ache gnawed at his chest at the mention of Harleh. He could see the sturdy walls and the plains stretched before him. It felt as if he looked upon the whole world when he looked over those plains. It was a world much bigger than these four, constraining walls. It was a world that was going on without him.

Marik seemed to catch the hint of melancholy that glazed over his expression, because she reached out a hand and stroked his hand steadily. Even this gesture reminded him of Harleh, of Tanum, when she tried to comfort him when he was upset.

“Forgive me, Lady Marik.” He took his sleeve and wiped his eyes which were starting to water. “I… don’t know what came over me.”

“I do.” Her voice sounded far away like an echo in a cave. “You miss your home.”

He couldn’t hide anything from the ömem. It was terrifying and comforting at once.

Sael wouldn’t beg Marik to help him escape the Emperor. He didn’t know if she would, or if she would report him herself. That was part of the mystery about her. He didn’t think he could solve it with a few salient conversations.

“Your Highness... Sael.” Sael looked up at the mention of his name. Marik’s expression had turned grave, her lips pinched in a shape that reminded Sael of a red flower bud before it had bloomed. “What I am about to say will upset you, but the Emperor has assigned me to give you this message himself.”

There was a pause, as if she were waiting for him to answer her. Sael tried to find the words. He wanted to know. Had Koreh really been executed? Had they convicted Sael as well? Would he be put to the sword before Atnu set?

“Your valet has escaped.”

A wave of relief flooded Sael, but he trained his expression to not look too overjoyed.

“I see.”

“Moreover, he is in Harleh, assisting the Vek of Worlen.”

“Harleh? How?”

Marik shook her head. “We do not yet know the methods, but to house an enemy of the Emperor is an act of war. Do you know what this means?”

Sael’s mind sparked with a dozen possibilities.

“The Emperor has sent an army to Harleh. They’ve been instructed to torch the city.”

Sael gasped. “How can the Emperor do that?” He didn’t doubt the Emperor’s hate for his father, but to kill his own citizens…

Marik blinked slowly. Her eyes were clear, serious but not solemn. “Plague has also broken out in the city. It is an efficient remedy, and the healthy citizens will be allowed to leave and set up new lives. That is, everyone except for the nobility and the higher ranked in the military.”

She rose as she said the last words. “I have told you much. You will need time to contemplate it.”

“Just like that…” Sael didn’t know what he was going to say next and Marik didn’t give him any time to think about it.

“Yes.” A small smile crept along her lips again. It looked mischievous enough to give Sael reason to hope. “But I will be back.”

Just like that… just like that the world had come tumbling down. Maybe it was always going that way. Plague and treason and death.

Sael shook his head. He didn’t have time to sulk.

Except he did.

There was nothing he could do within these confined walls except think of all the horrible ways the Emperor would kill his family.

He spent his midmorning in a constant state of worry as he paced about the small room.

They’d brought in some books for him, but not nearly the size of the collection he’d acquired before. However, the books were little use in clearing his head. He couldn’t concentrate on a single line, not when his father and Seffni were in danger.

His head hit the headrest of the chair. Had his father been there, he would have said his posture was unbefitting of a nobleman. Just the thought of such an insignificant memory threatened to bring tears to Sael’s eyes, but he wouldn’t cry. Not yet. Not while there was still time.

Without another thought, he leapt off the sofa and pulled open the heavy doors.

As excepted, a couple of guards were there waiting for him.

“What are you doing?” One looked at him roughly. “Get back in your room.”

“I demand to speak to the Emperor!”

They held him back, but Sael pushed against the brunt of their hilts and arms.

“Your Highness?” A cool voice echoed from across the hall.

“Lady Marik!” Sael breathed in relief.

“Lady Marik, he’s trying to leave.”

“Yes, to see the Emperor, I take it?” Her voice trilled high, and Sael doubted the guard detected her sarcasm. “Come along, Your Highness.”

“But my lady—” She gave the guards a cold look that would bury most any man into the ground.

Sael was free. He strode to Marik’s side and resisted the urge to throw back a condescending stare.

They had already turned a corner by the time her words hit Sael. “The Emperor? He wants to speak with me?”

“Yes, His Majesty requested I escort you personally.” Her movements were calm and serene. Sael didn’t think she was marching him off to his execution, but still, it felt odd to be called on by the Emperor after so much had happened. Did the man expect Sael to beg to him to call off his troops? Didn’t the Emperor hate just the idea of him by now?

This time the Emperor wasn’t in his sunroom. It seemed there were many parts of the palace that Sael had not been privy to, and Marik led him into one such place. Mourning cloths draped the usual finery and there was a hush to the usual going-ons. The Emperor sat at a desk, bowed over a document. He did not turn away from it immediately. There was a breath—a pause—and Sael was not sure whether to announce himself or run the other way.

Lady Marik saved him from both courses of action. “Your Majesty.”

The Emperor turned around. His the hollowness of his jowl made it look as if he had not eaten in days.

“So you’re finally awake.” Sael tried to listen for the faintest hint of disgust in the Emperor’s tone, but there was only a stiff apathy, as if he was beyond the point of caring.

“Your Majesty.” Sael regarded the man. Although he hated him, although he was the reason for all of Sael’s suffering, he could not help but feel sorry for him. Would his own father look like this if something were to happen to Sael? “You have my deepest condolences. May Tull dönz Nesharr be honored in the Great Hall.” He wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to bring up Tull’s name in the presence of the Emperor, especially because it was his own valet that had been convicted of his killing, but he didn’t care. The Emperor needed to hear it from him, that Sael was truly sorry the boy had died.

If the Emperor appreciated his honesty, he gave no indication.

“You’ve no doubt heard about my troops marching to Harleh by now.”

“I-I have,” Sael hesitated. He remembered it was the Emperor who had summoned him.

“And yet you have nothing to say of this?”

“What would you have me say, Your Majesty?” He could not—would not—beg the Emperor to call off his troops. The Vek of Worlen would certainly not beg, and neither would Sael. He could have made the case that Koreh was innocent, that his family had done nothing wrong, but it was too late for all of that now, he had no solid proof either.

“As expected of Lüxen’s son.” It took Sael a moment to realize the Emperor did not say his father’s name with hate. Somewhere, deep down, it seemed the Emperor had the utmost respect for his father. Perhaps, in a different lifetime, the two men could have been friends. Power and suspicion had created a fierce rivalry between the two. Sael hoped he would never let power corrupt him like it had the Emperor.

“With all due respect, Your Majesty,” Sael began, “why are you keeping me here?” The Emperor regarded him with a cool gaze, but did seem to want to start talking. So Sael continued. “My valet was convicted of the murder of your son and my family’s been convicted of treason.” Now came the hard part, the part that had been on Sael’s mind even before he’d entered the palace. “Why haven’t you killed me? Surely, you have every reason to. And yet you continue to feed me, to show me your hospitality and even put me in the care of your personal ömem. Forgive me, but I do not understand your rationale, your Majesty. Shouldn’t I be the first of my family to die? It would be so easy for you.” Sael’s voice grew higher and shriller. “Why are you drawing it out like this? Do you intend to see me suffer? Is this how you will exact your revenge?” By the time he was done, his heart was beating fast and he was nearly out of breath.

The Emperor seemed unfazed by his words. “Do you love your family, Sael dönz Menaük?”

“More than anything, Your Majesty.”

“Even after your father agreed to send you here, effectively making you my hostage?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” In truth, Sael was thankful for the Emperor’s frankness. No more subterfuge. No more false politeness. It was just Sael and the Emperor here, and of course, the watchful Lady Marik.

“Then I won’t lie to you, Sael dönz Menaük. I will kill your family. Your father, your brother, the mother, and the unborn child. I will burn Harleh to the ground and salt the fields. And then I will expunge your father’s name from every record in the Empire. He will be regarded as a traitor and scorned by every living soul.”

The Emperor’s words did not surprise Sael. He’d been expecting as much since he’d heard that the troops were on the march. “Respectfully, Your Majesty,” Sael replied. “But my father will not go down without fighting.”

“Yes, I expect he’ll be a challenge.” Once again, Sael noticed the cleverness in the Emperor’s eyes, as if his father was just another opponent he would go up against in the Royal Tournament. As if the Emperor had not just threatened to kill his family and destroy his home. “But he will be no match for my troops in the end. Even you must realize that.”

Sael knew that, too, of course. The Emperor had superior numbers and enough money and support to keep a campaign going for months. Sael could see it now, the Emperor’s endgame: Harleh Keep under siege and dying from within by the plague. He doubted his father would last months, let alone weeks, under those conditions. It was such a good plan. Sael was in awe of it. If it had hadn’t been his family, his home, he would have relished the Emperor’s tactics, would have followed him into whatever battle the Emperor proposed.

But it was his family, his home, and the amount of respect he had for the Emperor was eclipsed by the fear he felt for those he held dear.

Still, it bothered him. The Emperor had not threatened to kill him. And a tiny part of Sael wished he was dead for all the anguish he would feel when the Emperor finally won.

“So you want me to witness my family’s destruction?” Sael asked. He didn’t care about being respectful now. “You should just save yourself the trouble and kill me now. I will not beg or grovel to you. I will not shed a single tear in front of you. You can have your revenge on all of us, but we will take it with dignity.” You should know by now, Emperor. A Menaük does not lose, especially in spirit.

The Emperor considered him for a second, but it did not seem he was going to reach for his sword any time soon. “And what, Sael dönz Menaük, do you think will happen once the vek of Worlen is executed? Do you think the people of the Eastern Kingdom will readily unite as one and condemn Worlen for the traitor he is?”

“Of course not.” Sael shook his head. “They have remained loyal to the Menaük line for generations. They will resent you, perhaps even rebel and start a war against the Western Kingdom.”

“And that,” the Emperor said, “is something I cannot have.”

The pieces were falling into place, as if the Emperor had gently coaxed Sael by a string. It was just dawning on Sael, what the Emperor had truly had planned for him all along.

“So I will install a Menaük as Vek of the Eastern Kingdom. A Menaük who will openly condemn his father and stay loyal to the Emperor.”

The realization hit Sael like a mallet. “No! I will never do such a thing!” He stepped away from the Emperor. “K-kill me now. Save yourself the trouble. If not, I will surely lead my people into war against you.”

What was he saying? To openly declare war against the Emperor in front of him? And yet, and yet… he would never allow himself to be the Emperor’s pawn.

“You have no choice, Sael dönz Menaük. You will become the Vek of Worlen and you will condemn your family for the traitors they are.”

Before the Emperor or Lady Marik could stop him, he dashed across the room and pulled an ornate dagger from where it hung on the wall.

“I won’t let you!” He held the dagger to his his chest. Red blossomed on his shirt. He was just about to drive it in when an image of Koreh flashed into his mind. No, Sael thought, not now, Koreh. I have to go through with this. I can’t—I couldn’t live with myself if…

But his hand was trembling and the dagger stopped short of his heart.

In another moment, guards were all around him. A forceful hand ripped the dagger from his grasp and another held him in place. At the same time, a piece of metal was jammed into his mouth, so, Sael knew, he could not even bite off his tongue.

“That I cannot allow.” The Emperor had come up to him in the meantime. His haggard face showed no pity for him, but nothing about his features seemed to take any pleasure in what he was doing. This was all purely an act of duty for him and nothing more.

“I would tell you, Sael dönz Menaük, that begging for death will do nothing for you. You are just wasting your breath..” The Emperor’s hand brushed against his cheek. Sael could feel the warm metal of his rings and wished that hand would cruelly wrap around his hair and snap his neck. But the Emperor’s hand only gently raised his chin until Sael was looking him in the eyes. “But I know you will not listen to me. So know this: you are useful to me and I will not allow you to die. At the very least, that is much more than your father could have granted you.”

It took everything Sael had not to cry in front of the Emperor. No, he would not cry, but he was shaking and he could not stop himself. Bitterly, he knew he had already done the one thing his father had told him never to do: he had shown the Emperor fear. And now, like a wolf that had tasted human blood, the Emperor would not back down.

He felt the Emperor’s hand leave his chin. It’s no use, Sael wanted to tell him, I will never betray my family. But the metal bit in his mouth would not let him.

The Emperor turned to Lady Marik. “You have prepared it?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Then bring Sael dönz Menaük to it right away. The fate of the Empire rests upon his willingness to be loyal to me.”

“I have Seen it, Your Majesty,” Lady Marik said. “Before the siege is over, Sael dönz Menaük will denounce House Menaük and swear fealty to you.”

Sael did not pretend to know what they meant by preparations, but one thing was clear: he would never do as they said. He would find a way to run, and barring that, a way to destroy himself, before ever giving into them. He swore it on the gods, on his lineage, and hoped that Koreh would find some way to forgive him for the impossible choice he was about to make.

**Author's Note:**

> Tövon - language of Desak  
> Things:  
> komid-minid - flowers with gold veins  
> kim - large fish  
> nimen - lover  
> stosam - ale  
> ten’nak- swamp creature  
> veikit - Eastern kingdom’s rulers  
> vek - ruler of the Eastern kingdom   
> dekan - heir to the ruler of the Easter kingdom, governs his own lands  
> tondekan- title associated with dekan’s land  
> kikid- bird that nests in fields
> 
> Osyeh - Taaweh language  
> Things:  
> iinyeh - friend 
> 
> People
> 
> caednu - a priest with minor fire ability (male)  
> ömem - female mage. has healing, sight, from Imen  
> tadu - the apprentices of the caednu (male)  
> samöt - assassins (loyal to ömem)  
> vönan - male fire mage (add makek for the head mage)  
> vönan-makek - chief vönan of a particular court
> 
> Eye of Atnu - sun  
> Eye of Druma - moon 
> 
> Stronni - religion of of the vönan, etc.  
> Religious figures:  
> King Caednu  
> Queen Imen 
> 
> Taaweh - a "forgotten" religion with a bad reputation
> 
> Times:
> 
> Penent - sunrise  
> Cabbon - midday  
> Namom - Sunset  
> Manduccot - midnight
> 
> Places:
> 
> gü-Khemed  
> Mivikh  
> Mat’zovya  
> Denök  
> Gyishya  
> Sidaz  
> Ködekh
> 
> Forest to the east  
> Desert to the west


End file.
